n 


I       5AN  DIEGO 


g  -5  33-S 


THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 


-v^viS 


THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 


By 


WILLIAM  CHANDLER  BAGLEY 

(PH.D.,  Cornell) 

PROFESSOR  OF  EDUCATION,  UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS;    FORMERLY 

VICE-PRESIDENT  AND   DIRECTOR   OF  TRAINING, 

MONTANA  STATE   NORMAL  COLLEGE 


THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 

1920 

AU  rigkii  rtttrvet 


Copyright,  1905, 
By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANv. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Publlihed  June,  1905. 


tJorivood  Preu 

%  S.  Cutbing  &  Co Berwick  &  Smith  Ob. 

Norwood^  Mast.f  U.S. A. 


PREFACE 

The  following  account  of  the  Educative  Process  is 
intended  to  present  a  systematic  and  comprehensive 
view  of  the  task  that  is  to  be  accomplished  by  the 
school.  It  covers  the  field  commonly  included  under 
the  terms,  "  General  Method,"  "  Method  of  the  Recita- 
tion," "Theory  and  Practice,"  etc.;  but  it  deals  with 
principles  rather  than  with  the  details  of  device  and 
"method."  The  writer  is  convinced  that  clear  and 
definite  notions  of  the  functions  of  education  and  of 
the  laws  which  govern  the  educative  process  will  do 
much  toward  eliminating  the  waste  of  time  and  energy 
that  is  involved  in  the  work  of  the  school.  It  is  not  to 
be  expected  that  the  young  teacher,  even  though  he 
be  equipped  with  the  best  of  theory,  will  prosecute  his 
work  with  maximal  success  from  the  very  start.  Skill 
in  teaching,  like  skill  in  any  other  art,  can  come 
only  through  persistent  practice,  coupled  with  serious 
study  and  strenuous  self-discipUne.  But  self-discipline 
reaches  up  to  ideals  for  control  and  guidance ;  and  not 
the  least  important  element  in  the  formation  of  effec- 
tive ideals  is  substantial  theory.  Theory  may  well 
provide  a  light  for  the  beginner's  first  steps,  making 


VI  PREFACE 

them  less  awkward,  less  incoordinate,  than  they  would 
be  in  its  absence.  Even  the  work  of  the  experienced 
teacher,  although  superficially  efficient,  may  sometimes 
subvert  one  or  more  of  the  basal  principles  of  the 
educative  process;  and  it  is  precisely  at  these  points 
that  an  adequate  conception  of  principles,  based  on 
the  best  data  that  science  can  offer,  must  be  added  to 
a  mastery  of  technique. 

Consistently  with  this  view,  the  principles  presented 
in  the  following  pages  are  those  that  the  writer  be- 
lieves to  be  indispensable  in  the  construction  of  effective 
ideals  of  teaching,  using  the  term  "  ideals  "  in  the  sense 
in  which  it  is  employed  in  Chapters  XIII  and  XIV  of 
this  book.  Care  has  also  been  taken  to  utilize  only 
those  data  of  psychology  and  biology  that  are  vouched 
for  by  reputable  modern  authorities  in  these  fields.  In 
the  case  of  nearly  every  principle  presented,  the  source 
from  which  it  has  been  derived  is  indicated  by  title  and 
page-references,  sometimes  to  the  monographic  litera- 
ture, but,  wherever  possible,  to  treatises  and  text-books 
that  are  available  both  to  students  of  education  in  the 
normal  school  and  university  and  to  those  engaged  in 
the  actual  work  of  teaching  who  have  access  to  a 
general  Hbrary. 

Aside  from  the  various  specific  sources  which  are  thus 
indicated  in  detail  in  the  footnotes,  the  writer  wishes 
to  acknowledge  an  indebtedness  of  a  more  general 
character  to  the  following  works  :  Mr.  L.  T.  Hobhouse's 


PREFACE  Vft 

"  Mind  in  Evolution,"  Professor  E.  B.  Titchener's 
"  Primer  of  Psychology  "  and  "  Outline  of  Psychology," 
and  President  G.  Stanley  Hall's  illuminating  paper, 
"The  Ideal  School,"  which  foreshadowed  his  recently 
published  treatise,  "Adolescence." 

The  book  has  been  read  in  manuscript  by  Professor 
M.  V.  O'Shea  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  and  by 
Professors  E.  B.  Titchener,  Charles  De  Garmo,  and 
G.  M.  Whipple  of  Cornell  University,  to  each  of  whom 
the  writer's  gratitude  is  due  for  many  valuable  criti- 
cisms and  suggestions.  He  also  acknowledges  the  in- 
valuable service  rendered  by  his  colleagues.  Dr.  Carrie 
Ranson  Squire  and  Professor  W.  C.  Ruediger,  in  for- 
mulating many  of  the  principles  here  presented;  and 
by  his  wife,  Florence  Winger  Bagley,  in  the  patient 
and  helpful  criticism  which  her  sympathetic  insight 
and  psychological  training  enabled  her  to  bring  to  the 
improvement  of  the  work. 


WILLIAM  CHANDLER  BAGLEY. 


State  Normal  College, 

Dillon,  Montana, 

Jiine,  1905. 


ANALYTICAL   TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 
PART  I 

FUNCTIONS  OF  EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  I 

Education  reduced  to  its  Lowest  Terms 

PAGE 

I.  Elaborate  organization  of  educational  forces  makes  a  reduction 
to  simpler  terms  desirable.  2.  Educability  depends  on  capacity 
of  organism  to  profit  by  past  experience.  3.  Many  lower  forms 
lack  this  capacity,  depending  entirely  upon  instinctive  adjust- 
ments. 4.  Reflexes  and  instincts  are  products  of  heredity. 
5,  Higher  animals  can  modify  hereditary  adjustments  through 
experience.  6.  But  man  holds  practically  a  unique  position  in 
requiring  this  modification  for  normal  development.  7.  Lower 
animals  cannot  transmit  acquired  characteristics.  8.  Man  can 
transmit  products  of  experience  from  generation  to  generation. 
9.  Lacking  this  capacity,  man  would  be  far  below  many  other 
animals.  10.  Educability  dependent  upon  language  function. 
II.  Tentative  definition  of  education  .0        ...         I 

CHAPTER  II 

The  Function  of  the  School 

I.  Distinction  between  formal  and  informal  education;  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  each.  2.  The  family  the  fundamental 
agency  of  formal  education.  3.  Development  of  apprentice 
system  and  assumption  of  educative  function  by  the  priesthood. 
4.  Evolution  of  the  modern  school.  5.  School  concerned  with 
individual  during  the  period  of  "infancy";  significance  of 
infancy  as  a  period  (a)  of  economic  dependence  and  (J?)  of 
organic  plasticity.      6.   Definition  of  the  school  as  an  agency 


ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


of  formal  education;  examples  of  efficiency  of  formal  education 
in  social  evolution.  7.  School  controls  environmental  forces 
that  operate  on  the  child;  school  "studies"  represent  different 
phases  of  experience  with  the  environment        ....      23 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Ethical  End  of  Education 

Problem  of  the  chapter.  2.  The  laws  underlying  educative 
process  largely  independent  of  ultimate  aim.  3.  Therefore  a 
distinction  is  justified  between  ethical  and  empirical  aims  of 
education.  4.  Ethical  aim  has  certain  measure  of  importance 
to  the  method  of  education.  5.  Critical  discussion  of  typical 
ethical  aims :  (a)  the  "  bread-and-butter  "  aim.  6.  (^)  The 
"  knowledge  "  aim.  7.  (c)  The  "  culture  "  aim.  8.  (d)  The  "  har- 
monious development "  aim.  9.  (^)  The  "  moral "  aim.  10.  (/^ 
The  "social"  aim.  11.  Characteristics  of  the  socially  efficient 
individual.     12.  Advantages  of  the  social  aim    ....      40 


PART  II 

TffE  ACQUISITION  OF  EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  Reading  of  Meaning  into  Sense  Impressions: 
Apperception 

Function  of  sensation  in  informing  mind  (a)  of  the  condition  of 
the  body  and  (J>)  of  happenings  in  the  outer  world;  adjustment 
the  end  toward  which  sensation  is  the  means.  2.  The  purpose- 
ful character  of  sensation  not  obvious  from  the  outset ;  tentative 
definition  of  apperception.  3.  Fundamental  law  of  appercep- 
tion; illustrations.  4.  Importance  of  strain  sensations  in  later 
apperceptive  processes;  illustrations  and  testimony  of  authorities. 
5.  Direct  evidence  of  unifying  function  of  strain  sensations: 
(a)  pathological,  (Jj)  anatomical,  (t)  genetic.  6.  Significance 
of  strain  sensations  in  educative  process.     7.  Summary      .        .      66 


ANALYTICAL   TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Needs  of  the  Organism  as  determining  Apperception: 
Degrees  of  Apperception  and  Apperceptive  Systems 

PAGF 

Apperception  determined  by  (a)  primitive  needs,  (d)  acquired 
needs.  2.  Apperception  of  (a)  "  low  "  or  (i>)  "  high  "  degree, 
according  as  it  is  determined  by  primitive  or  acquired  needs; 
illustration  from  "apraxia."  3.  Apperceptions  of  low  degree 
correlated  with  coarse  adjustments  involving  larger  muscles; 
apperceptions  of  high  degree  correlated  with  finer  adjustments 
involving  smaller  muscles;  illustrations.  4.  Apperceptive  sys- 
tems as  illustrated  by  sensory  aphasia;  definition  of  apperceptive 
system;  systems  may  be  of  high  or  low  degree.  5.  Genesis  of 
apperceptive  systems;  both  hereditary  and  environmental  factors 
involved.  6.  Systems  of  low  degree  most  profoundly  influenced 
by  hereditary  conditions.  7.  Systems  may  be  "  large "  or 
"small";  in  either  case  may  be  looked  upon  as  "condensed" 
experiences 83 


CHAPTER  VI 

Attention,  Interest,  and  Will  in  the  Light  of 
Apperception 

I.  Summary  of  Chapters  IV  and  V;  problem  of  present  chapter. 
2.  Attention  as  a  conscious  state.  3.  Differences  between  focal 
and  marginal  elements;  function  of  focalization.  4.  Conditions 
of  focalization ;  (a)  passive  attention.  5,  (<5)  Active  attention. 
6.  («:)  Secondary  passive  attention.  7.  Psychological  distinction 
between  work  and  play,  as  suggested  by  discussion  of  attention. 

8.  Relation  between  capacity  for  active  attention  and  "  will." 

9.  Attention  a  structural  term,  apperception  a  functional  term. 

10.  Correlation  between  systems  of  apperception  and  marginal 
constituents  of  attentive  state,  li.  Relation  of  apperception 
and  attention  to  interest;  distinction  between  primitive  and 
acquired  interests;  relations  of  each  to  the  educative  process; 
biologically,  work  is  the  central  feature  of  education.  12.  Modi- 
fication of  doctrine  of  effort  by  recognition  of  organic  needs 
and  their  relation  to  apperception;  illustrations  from  elementary 
education.     13.  Summary  of  Parts  I  and  II        .        .        .        .95 


XU        ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PART   III 

THE  FUNCTIONING   OF  EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  VII 

Experience  functioning  as  Habit 

PAGE 

I.  Experience  functions  (a)  as  habit  and  (b)  as  judgment,  accord- 
ing as  a  minimum  or  maximum  of  consciousness  is  involved. 
2.  Illustration  of  habit.  3.  Habits  classed  as  {a)  automatisms 
and  (J>)  marginal  habits;  sensori-motor  actions  as  a  type  of 
marginal  habit.  4.  Ideo-motor  actions  as  a  type  of  marginal 
habit.  5.  Moral  habits:  {a)  of  cleanliness,  {b)  of  industry, 
{c)  of  "honor."  6.  The  function  of  habit;  significance  of 
habit  building  in  the  educative  process;  the  law  of  habit  build- 
ing; illustrations  from  work  of  the  school.  7.  The  breaking  up 
of  habits;  significance  of  this  process  in  education.  8.  Effect 
of  focalizing  incorrect  forms 115 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Experience  functioning  as  Judgment 

I.  Function  of  judgment  to  insure  adaptation  to  new  situations. 
2.  Different  phases  of  judgment  process;  illustrations.  3.  Defi- 
nition of  judgment.  4.  Classes  of  judgment :  {a)  practical 
judgment  as  application  of  concrete  experience  in  the  solution 
of  a  situation.  5.  Practical  judgment  involves  analysis,  synthe- 
sis, comparison,  and  abstraction.  6.  Advantages  and  limitations 
of  the  practical  judgment.  7.  (<J)  Conceptual  judgment  as  ap- 
plication of  condensed  experience  in  the  solution  of  a  situation; 
made  possible  through  condensation  of  experiences  and  the 
formation  of  concepts ,        ,     128 

CHAPTER  IX 

The  Condensation-  of  Experiences  and  the  Formation 
OF  Concepts 

I.  Condensation  not  a  compressing,  but  a  selection  of  common  ele- 
ments.    2.   Concept  is  represented  by  the  word.     3.  Typical 


ANALYTICAL   TABLE   OF   CONTENTS  xiii 


dasses  of  concepts :  (a)  collective,  (3)  individual;  illustratioas. 
4.  The  concept  of  "  self"  as  a  type  of  individual  concepts.  5.  A 
concept  is  an  apperceptive  system  made  explicit ;  the  word  iis 
the  focal  representative  of  an  apperceptive  system;  why  intel- 
ligent use  of  words  is  possible  without  attendant  imagery. 
6.  Concept  building  in  education;  significance  of  the  dictum: 
"  Proceed  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract  and  from  the  par- 
ticular to  the  general."  7.  The  teacher  must  see  that  process 
of  condensation  in  formation  of  the  judgment  is  not  taken  for 
granted     .        .       > »       .    I59 


PART  IV 

THE  ORGANIZATION  AND  RECALL  OF  EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  X 

The  Organization  of  Experiences  through  Conceptual 
Judgments 

The  finished  product  of  a  conceptual  judgment  may  further  func- 
tion as  a  condensed  experience  in  facing  new  situations;  this 
functioning  still  involves  a  judgment  process.  2.  Definition  of 
reasoning  as  the  formation  of  a  judgment  de  novo,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  application  of  a  preformed  judgment,  3.  The 
latter  process  termed  "intuitive"  judgment.  4.  Reasoning 
involves  the  reduction  of  an  "aggregate  idea."  5.  Definition  of 
logical  reasoning.  6.  Forms  of  logical  reasoning:  (a)  induc- 
tion. 7.  (J))  Deduction.  8.  Importance  of  so  fixing  judgments 
m  educative  process  that  they  may  later  function  in  reasoning. 
9.  A  science  is  an  organized  group  of  conceptual  judgments; 
this  organization,  however,  fulfills  the  final  end  of  adjustment. 
20.  Definition  of  philosophy;  antinomy  between  the  "practical" 
and  the  "theoretical,"  and  its  solution.  11.  Significance  of 
this  distinction  to  education.  \2.  Definition  of  terms  "fact," 
*  law,"  "  principle,"  etc.,  in  the  light  of  preceding  discussion     .     15I 


BV        ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XI 
The  Factors  of  Efficient  Recall 

?AGB 

I,  fudgment  a  focal  process,  consequently  experience  to  function  as 
judgment  must  be  subject  to  recall,  z.  Factors  involved  in 
recall  of  {a)  concrete  experiences:  (i)  recency,  (2)  primacy, 
(3)  vividness,  (4)  frequency;  significance  of  each  to  the  edu- 
cative process.  3.  Relation  of  these  factors  to  attention. 
4.  These  four  factors  are  also  significant  to  the  recall  of  con- 
densed experience.  5.  But  these  are  inadequate  to  efficient 
functioning  of  {b)  condensed  experience;  a  fifth  factor,  organiza- 
tion, largely  replaces  them;  advantages  of  organization  over 
more   primitive   factors;     results   of  experiments   on   memory. 

6.  Operation  of  the  factor  of  organization  in  educative  process. 

7.  Education  must  effect  a  compromise  between  the  three 
factors :  organization,  vividness,  and  frequency.  8.  Combination 
of  two  or  more  factors  probably  more  effective  than  exclusive 
use  of  any  one;  experimental  evidence.  9.  Frequency  or  repe- 
tition holds  unique  position.  10.  The  concentration  and  corre- 
lation of  studies  as  promoting  organization         ....    169 

CHAPTER  XII 

The  functioning  of  the  Factors  of  Recall  as  modified 
BY  the  Periods  of  Child  Development 

I.  Antinomy  between  habit  and  judgment  in  educational  practice; 
solution  of  this  antinomy  in  the  light  of  child  development. 
2.  Division  of  the  elementary  school  into  "  primary,"  "  interme- 
diate," and  "grammar"  grades  an  implicit  recognition  of  periods 
of  growth.  3.  Periods  of  child  development  as  indicated  by 
child  study :  (a)  the  transition  period  (6-8) ;  physical  charac- 
teristics. 4.  Mental  characteristics  of  transition  period.  5.  Moral 
characteristics.  6.  (3)  The  formative  period  (8-12);  physical 
characteristics.  7.  Mental  characteristics.  8.  Moral  character- 
istics. 9.  {c)  The  adolescent  period  (12-18);  physical  charac- 
teristics. 10.  Mental  characteristics.  11.  Moral  characteristicSo 
12.  Summary;  factors  ot  recall  to  be  emphasized  in  each  period     184 


ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS        XV 


PART  V 

THE  SELECTION  OF  EXPERIENCES  FOR  EDUCATIONAL 
PURPOSES:   EDUCATIONAL   VALUES 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Formal  versus  Intrinsic  Values  of  Experience, 
The  Doctrine  of  Formal  Discipline 

FAG8 

I.  Distinction  between  formal  and  intrinsic  values  of  educative  mate- 
rials; "formal  disciplines"  formerly  supposed  to  develop  "gen- 
eralized habits."  2.  But  a  generalized  habit  is  a  psychological 
absurdity.  3.  Experiment  also  conclusively  proves  that  specific 
habits  are  not  generalized.  4.  It  is  evident,  however,  that  the 
development  of  certain  functions  influences  in  some  manner  the 
development  of  other  functions.  5.  While  habits  are  always 
specific,  they  can  probably  be  related  to  one  another  through 
the  judgment  process;  hence  it  is  an  ideal  that  is  generalized, 
not  a  specific  function.  6.  Examples  of  this  process.  7.  Appli- 
cation of  this  solution  to  the  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  .        .     203 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Tta  Development  of  Ideals  as  the  Chief  Work  of 
Education 

I.  Ideals  represent  an  important  type  of  condensed  experience  not 
always  recognized  in  education.  2.  Significance  of  ideals  in 
social  evolution  and  in  existing  human  institutions.  3.  The 
educational  system  or  method  that  fails  to  instill  effective  ideals 
is  a  failure.  4.  The  ideal  and  intrinsic  values  of  subject-matter 
can  be  harmonized.  5.  Psychological  characteristics  of  an 
effective  ideaL    6.  Educational  applications      ....    Si3 

CHAPTER  XV 

The  Intrinsic  Values  of  Different  Types  of  Experience 

I,  Classification  of  intrinsic  values.  2.  (a)  Utilitarian  values;  cri- 
terion;   relatively   small   representation    in    school    curricula. 


Xvi        ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


3.  Utilitarian  values  frequently  applicable  only  to  specific  occu- 
pations. 4.  (^)  Conventional  values;  criterion;  illustrated  by 
grammar  and  spelling.  5.  (£■)  Preparatory  values;  criterion; 
illustrated  by  arithmetic  and  geography.  6.  {d)  Theoretical 
values;  criterion.  7  (^)  Sentimental  values;  criterion;  signifi- 
cance of  sentiments  as  higher  means  of  pleasure.  8.  lUustrat  ions 
torn  literature  and  art       ..••'•••        t    225 


PART  VI 

r&B   TRANSMISSION  OF  EXPERIENCE  AND   THB 
TECHNIQUE   OF  TEACHING 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Thb  Transmission  of  Experience  in  the  Concrete: 
Imitation  and  Objective  Teaching 

3.  Problem  of  Part  VI.  2.  Transmission  of  experience  through 
(fl)  imitation;  imitation  one  expression  of  a  fundamental  psy- 
chological law;  application  of  imitation  in  educative  process 
depends  upon  the  principle  that  the  child  imitates  that  which 
he  admires.  3.  Imitation  an  important  factor  in  initiating 
habit;  illustrations.  4.  Relation  of  imitation  to  apperception. 
5.  Summary.  6.  (J>)  Objective  teaching;  nature  and  function. 
7.  Principles  governing  success  of  objective  teaching.  8.  The 
school  excursion  as  a  type  of  objective  teaching;  rules  for  con- 
duct of  school  excursion.  9.  Museums  as  educative  agencies; 
the  school  museum.  10.  The  school  garden  as  a  medium  for 
objective  teaching.  11.  The  laboratory  and  its  functions. 
12.  The  limitations  of  objective  teaching;  danger  of  neglecting 
conceptual  processes 239 

CHAPTER  XVn 

Thb  Transmission  of  Condensed  Experience:  Develop- 
ment and  Instruction 

I.  Problem  of  the  chapter;  distinction  between  imparting  of  con- 
ceptual judgments  by  development  and  by  instruction.     2.  De- 


ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS        XVii 


▼elopment  and  instruction  compared  as  to  advantages  and 
limitations.  3.  The  field  of  each  in  the  educative  process; 
many  facts  must  be  presented  by  method  of  instruction,  4.  In 
imparting  principles  based  on  facts,  the  method  of  development 
is  more  frequently  to  be  employed;  in  general,  the  rights  of 
generalization  and  inference  belong  to  the  individual.  5.  But 
this  principle  must  be  qualified.    6.  Summary  ....    256 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  Media  of  Instruction 

I.  Classification  of  media  of  instruction.  2.  (a)  Language  as  the 
most  efficient  medium;  reasons  for  efficiency  of  language;  factors 
conditioning  this  efficiency.  3.  Oral  versus  book  instruction; 
advantages  and  limitations  of  each.  4.  Lecture  versus  question- 
and-answer  methods.  5.  Relative  values  of  different  methods 
of  book  instruction :  sources  versus  text-books.  6.  (3)  Graphic 
representation  as  a  medium  of  instruction :  pictures,  models, 
maps,  and  diagrams;  principles  governing  successful  use  of 
these  media  in  the  educative  process.  7.  The  media  of  emo- 
tional transmission;  distinction  between  emotional  and  intel- 
lectual experiences.  8.  Emotional  experiences  function  (a)  as 
essential  ingredients  of  ideals,  {P)  as  the  fundamental  essences 
of  the  sentiments;  illustrations  from  teaching  of  art.  9.  The 
function  of  art  in  the  educative  process 265 

CHAPTER   XIX 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction: 
(a)  The  Inductive  Development  Lesson 

I.  Qassification  of  school  exercises  as  to  structure.  2.  The  two 
types  of  development  lesson :  (a)  inductive  and  (^)  deductive. 
3.  The  inductive  development  lesson;  history  and  present 
status  of  the  "formal  steps."  4.  (i)  The  step  of  preparation; 
function;  method;  dme  element;  illustrations.  5.  {id)  The 
statement  of  the  aim;  function;  characteristics  of  an  effective 
aim;  illustrations.  6.  (2)  The  step  of  presentation;  function; 
varieties;  time  element;  illustrations.  7.  (3)  The  step  of 
comparison  and  abstraction;  function;   method;  time  element; 


XVUl       ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


illustrations.  8.  (4)  The  step  of  generalization;  function; 
form;  time  element;  illustrations.  9.  (5)  The  step  of  applica- 
tion; function;  time  element;  illustrations.  10.  The  inductive 
development  lesson  is  an  organic  unity.  1 1.  All  school  exercises 
cannot  be  cast  in  this  mold        ..••...    284 


CHAPTER  XX 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction: 
(b)  The  Deduciive  Development  Lesson 

Nature  of  the  deductive  development  lesson;  its  two  functions : 
(a)  anticipation  of  truth,  {b)  explanation  of  facts.  2.  This 
type  of  lesson  has  not  been  generally  reduced  to  formal  steps, 
but  is  frequently  represented  in  the  school.  3.  Advantages  of 
deductive  development,  4.  Two  types  of  deductive  lessons, 
corresponding  to  the  two  functions;  in  both  types  deductive 
lesson  covers  four  steps:  (i)  the  data,  (2)  the  principles, 
(3)  the  inference,  (4)  the  verification;  illustrations  of  these 
steps  in  anticipatory  lessons.  5.  Explanatory  lessons;  their 
function;  illustrations.  6.  Field  of  application  of  the  develop- 
ment lesson  in  the  educative  process  ..*••,    305 

CHAPTER  XXI 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction  j 
(c)  The  Study  and  (^)  the  Recitation  Lesson 

Nature  and  varieties  of  the  study  lesson.  2.  Function  of  the 
study  lesson.  3.  Phases  of  the  study  lesson:  (i)  the  assign- 
ment; nature  of  the  assignment;  principles  governing  its  effi- 
ciency; illustrations.  4.  (2)  The  seat  work;  significance  of 
seat  work  as  a  source  of  waste.  5.  Blackboard  questions  for 
guidance  in  seat  work.  6.  Topical  outlines  to  replace  questions. 
7.  Development  of  art  of  outlining  in  pupils.  8.  The  recitation 
lesson ;  functions  and  varieties.  9.  Distinction  between  question- 
and-answer  and  topical  recitations;  nature  of  (i)  the  question- 
and-answer  recitation.  10.  The  art  of  questioning.  1 1.  (2)  The 
topical  recitation;  nature,  functions,  and  development  of  the 
topical  recitation 316 


ANALYTICAL   TABLE   OF   CONTENTS  XIX 


CHAPTER  XXII 

TvPiCAL  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction  » 

(ji)  The  Drill,  (/)  the  Review,  and  {g)  the 

Examination  Lessons 

PAGB 

I.  Function  of  the  drill  lesson;  its  technique  governed  by  the  \«m 
of  habit  building.  2.  Necessity  of  focalization  in  drill;  illus- 
trations from  school  exercises.  3.  Devices  to  secure  focaliza- 
tion ;  dangers  involved  in  use  of  devices.  4.  The  two  functions 
of  the  review  lesson.  5.  Organization  as  the  keynote  of  the 
review  lesson.  6.  Technique  of  the  review  lesson.  7,  The 
examination  as  the  capstone  of  the  review  process;  the  essence 
of  an  examination  is  its  formal  character;  organization  the 
ultimate  end  of  the  examination 328 

CHAPTER   XXIII 

The  Hygiene  of  the  Educative  Process 

I.  Education  an  artificial  process;  demands  a  readjustment  to  which 
physical  structure  is  not  naturally  adapted.  2.  Abnormal  con- 
ditions imposed  by  the  educative  process:  (a)  indoor  life, 
(J>)  fine  adjustments,  (r)  active  attention.  3.  (i)  The  hygiene 
of  instruction :  conditions  of  light,  temperature,  ventilation, 
fatigue,  and  cheerfulness.  4.  (2)  Hygienic  habits  and  ideals; 
duty  of  the  school  in  development  of  these;  fallacy  of  the 
dictum,  "  Follow  nature."  5.  Hygienic  habits  must  be  empha- 
sized in  the  pre-adolescent  period.  6.  Hygienic  ideals  must  be 
emphasized  in  the  adolescent  period 335 

Indsx 35' 


THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS    .;<//^ 


PART  I.    FUNCTIONS  OF  EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  I 

Education  reduced  to  its  Lowest  Terms 

I.  As  with  all  the  activities  and  interests  that  are 
fostered  by  modern  civilization,  the  forces  of  education 
have  reached  a  stage  of  very  elaborate  specialization 
and  organization.  From  the  kindergarten  to  the  uni- 
versity, each  period  of  development  is  catered  to  by 
a  specific  kind  of  education,  with  its  specific  aims  and 
ends,  its  specific  standards  and  ideals,  its  specific  meth- 
ods and  devices.  And  cutting  across  these  planes  of 
cleavage,  which  represent  the  varying  needs  of  the 
individual  at  successive  levels  of  his  growth,  are  the 
almost  numberless  sciences  and  disciphnes,  each  with 
its  own  vocabulary,  its  own  technique,  its  own  specific 
function.  Not  only  is  the  teacher  a  speciaHst  in  edu- 
cation, but  he  is  perforce  a  speciaHst  in  one  department 
of  education  as  distinguished  from  other  departments. 
And  not  only  this,  but  he  is  frequently  a  specialist  in 
one  narrow  field  of  a  single  department  as  distinguished 
from  the  remaining  fields. 


•    2"  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

In  spite  of  its  many  advantages,  this  condition  brings 
,;,..  with  it  a  very  serious  difficulty;  for  while,  generally 
''^^^  speaking,  organization  means  efficiency,  it  is  none  the 
less  true  that  organization  means  complexity,  and  that 
a  complex  structure  is  hard  to  understand.  The  lay- 
man sees  in  education  a  vague,  undifferentiated  whole; 
but  the  novitiate,  as  his  acquaintance  continues,  watches 
this  whole  split  up  into  a  myriad  of  separate  parts. 
For  a  long  time  he  is  troubled  by  the  lack  of  orderly 
arrangement,  by  the  seeming  neglect  of  logical  con- 
tinuity and  system.  He  sees  a  vast,  noisy  machine,  the 
various  parts  of  which  appear  to  work  with  Httle  refer- 
ence to  the  needs  and  nature  of  the  whole;  not  a  co- 
ordinated system  of  interacting  elements,  but  a  mere 
aggregation  of  independent  units. 

The  initial  study  of  any  complicated  structure  in- 
volves a  similar  difficulty.  It  required  thousands  of 
years  for  science  to  discover  the  order  and  system  that 
govern  the  organic  world,  —  to  "strip  the  mask  from 
things."  The  serious  student  of  nature  from  the  very 
first  has  been  baffled  by  the  multiplicity  of  Hving  forms, 
the  diversity  and  seeming  independence  of  species  and 
genera,  the  unceasing  strife  and  struggle  for  supremacy, 
and  the  resulting  waste  of  time  and  energy.  Yet  we 
now  know  that  each  of  these  factors  has  its  peculiar 
significance  in  the  complicated  scheme  of  life.  Where 
once  the  massing  of  seemingly  disconnected  units  con- 
fused  and  baffled   us,   we   see  to-day  the  harmonious 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO   ITS    LOWEST   TERMS  3 

cooperation  of  all  these  factors  toward  a  definite  end. 
The  forces  that  appeared  to  be  independent  are  now 
seen  to  be  interdependent,  and  what  looked  to  be  the 
utter  neglect  or  absence  of  relation  is  now  revealed  as 
the  very  apotheosis  of  system  and  order.  The  organic 
world  has  been  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms,  and  the 
apparent  antithesis  of  diverse  forms  and  forces  has 
melted  away  under  the  new  light. 

In  the  study  of  the  concrete  problems  of  education, 
we  need  a  guiding  principle;  we  need  a  formula  that 
will  cover  every  case  that  is  presented;  we  need  to 
know  what  education  means  in  its  simplest  terms. 
Having  such  a  principle,  we  shall  have  a  basis  for  in- 
terpretation, —  a  criterion,  perhaps,  for  approval  or  con- 
demnation. Lacking  such  a  principle,  our  results  will 
be  the  merest  empiricisms,  valuable  it  may  be  as  sepa- 
rate facts,  but  totally  inadequate  to  the  needs  of  con- 
structive effort.  It  is  the  purpose  of  this  chapter  to 
attempt  the  formulation  of  such  a  principle. 

2.  Fundamentally  the  possibiKty  of  education  de- 
pends upon  the  capacity  of  the  organism  to  profit  by 
past  experiences.  In  one  way  or  another  the  facing 
of  past  situations  comes  to  modify  present  and  future 
adjustment.  Education  in  its  broadest  sense  means  just 
this:  acquiring  experiences  that  will  serve  to  modify 
inherited  adjustments. 

3.  In  order  to  understand  the  fundamental  signifi- 
cance of  this  principle,  we  must  know  that  the  capacit;^ 


4  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

to  profit  by  past  experience  is  limited  to  a  compara- 
tively few  forms  of  life.  In  the  lower  animals,  reaction 
or  adjustment  is  fixed  and  uniform.  It  varies  only 
vidth  the  nature  of  the  stimulus  and  not  with  the  re- 
sults of  previous  reactions  to  similar  stimuli,  —  only 
with  the  nature  of  the  environment  and  not  with  the 
results  of  previous  adjustments  to  similar  environments. 
A  certain  situation  "sets  off"  a  certain  fixed,  unvary- 
ing reaction.  No  matter  if  that  reaction  has  resulted 
disastrously  in  previous  instances,  the  same  stimulus 
will  again  initiate  it;  there  will  be  no  improvement  in 
adjustment  even  after  repeated  trials.  The  classic 
instance  of  the  moth  and  the  flame  is  a  case  in  point. 
The  hght  impressions  "set  off"  the  muscular  reactions 
that  carry  the  moth  to  the  flame.  Its  wings  are  scorched 
and  it  retreats,  —  adjustments  resulting  in  the  retreating 
movement  having  been  set  off  by  the  effect  of  the  scorch- 
ing upon  the  nerve  endings.  But  let  the  light  again 
impinge  upon  the  sense  organs  of  sight,  and  the  forward 
movement  will  again  be  initiated,  —  to  be  repeated,  no 
matter  how  frequently  the  scorching  may  occur,  until  the 
stimulus  is  either  withdrawn  or  replaced  by  another  more 
compelling,  or  until  the  moth  is  disabled  or  consumed. 
The  inborn  tendencies  to  response  are  termed  either 
reflexes  or  instinctive  movements,  according  as  they 
are  simple  or  complex.  Each  follows  upon  its  appropri- 
ate stimulus  as  mechanically  as  the  ringing  of  an  electric 
bell  follows  upon  the  pressing  of  the  button. 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS    LOWEST   TERMS  5 

4.  Reflexes  and  instinctive  movements  must  be  looked 
upon  as  products  of  heredity.  The  connections  in  the 
nervous  system  upon  which  they  depend  are  provided 
for  in  the  development  of  the  embryo  just  as  are  the 
connections  between  the  limbs  and  the  trunk  or  between 
the  blood  vessels  and  the  various  organs.  To  their  gene- 
sis, too,  must  be  applied  the  same  explanation.  How 
did  it  come  about  in  the  first  place  that  the  moth  responded 
in  one  way  to  light  impressions  and  in  another  way  to 
impressions  of  scorching  or  pain?  One  might  similarly 
ask.  How  did  it  come  about  that  the  original  moth  (if 
one  may  use  the  term)  had  wings  and  legs,  a  head,  a 
thorax,  and  an  abdomen?  In  the  Hght  of  our  present 
knowledge,  we  can  only  say  that  all  these  determinations 
of  anatomical  structure  (and  nerve  structure  is  anatomi- 
cal structure)  have  resulted  through  the  operation  of 
natural  selection  upon  chance  variations.  All  organ- 
isms tend  to  vary,  —  to  deviate  in  one  respect  or  an- 
other from  the  "normal"  or  average  type.  One  may 
have  a  slightly  longer  body,  another  may  vary  slightly 
in  coloring  or  markings,  another  in  strength,  another 
in  speed,  and  so  on.  Where  the  variation  is  helpful  in 
the  struggle  for  life,  the  organism  possessing  it  has  an 
advantage  over  the  organisms  that  lack  it.  Conse- 
quently the  chances  that  the  favored  organism  will  sur- 
vive and  perpetuate  its  species  are  increased.  Of  its 
progeny,  some  are  likely  to  vary  still  farther  in  the  right 
direction  and  so  on,  perhaps  indefinitely.    If,  on  the 


O  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

other  hand,  the  organism  is  a  variant  in  an  unfavorable 
direction,  it  will  be  placed  at  a  disadvantage  in  the  struggle 
for  existence,  and  the  chances  of  its  elimination  and  the 
consequent  cutting  off  of  its  line  of  descent  are  thereby 
increased.  It  is  through  this  factor  of  "natural  selec- 
tion" that  the  origin  of  specific  characters  among  organic 
beings  can  be  most  satisfactorily  explained,  and  it  is  to 
this  factor  that  one  must  look  for  an  explanation  of  the 
origin  and  development  of  those  connections  in  nerve  tissue 
that  lie  at  the  basis  of  reflex  and  instinctive  movements.^ 
5.  Whatever  theory  may  be  called  upon  to  explain  the 
origin  of  instinct,  however,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
a  large  number  of  animals  are  entirely  dependent  upon 
instinctive  reactions  for  adjustment  to  the  environment. 

^  It  is  true  that  the  genesis  of  instinct  presents  certain  difficulties  to 
this  explanation.  According  to  the  traditional  view,  natural  selection 
works  only  upon  slight  variations,  each  of  which  must  contribute  definitely 
to  the  survival  value  of  the  organism.  While  it  is  easy  to  see  that  each 
slight  change  in  the  right  direction  may  have  been  useful  in  the  develop- 
ment, say,  of  the  horse's  hoof,  it  is  not  so  easy  to  see  how  all  the  inter- 
mediate links  could  have  been  similarly  useful  in  the  development  of  a 
complex  instinct  like  the  nest-building  instincts  of  some  of  the  birds, 
Darwin  recognized  this  difficulty  and  attempted,  although  not  very  sat- 
isfactorily, to  surmount  it.  (See  Origin  of  Species,  vol.  i,  ch.  viii.) 
Romanes  {Heredity  and  Utility,  Chicago,  1896,  p.  87)  prefers  to  discard 
the  principle  of  natural  selection  in  the  case  of  instinct,  and  to  look  upon 
instinctive  adjustments  as  inherited  habits.  Baldwin  {Development  and 
Evolution,  New  York,  1903,  ch.  v)  disapproves  of  Romanes's  position 
because  it  assumes  the  inheritance  of  characteristics  acquired  during  the 
life  of  the  individual.  He  prefers  to  think  of  the  slight  changes  essential 
to  the  development  of  the  full-fledged  instinct  as  "  kept  alive  "  either  by 
intelligence  or  by  "  imitation."  This  view  is  also  open  to  objection,  for  it 
assumes  that  mind  or  consciousness  existed  prior  to  instinct.  In  fact,  the 
explanation  of  instinct  by  the  principle  of  natural  selection  seems  to  be  an 


EDUCATION   REDUCED   TO   ITS   LOWEST   TERMS  J 

Reaction  with  them  is  purely  mechanical,  the  same  stim- 
ulus or  combination  of  stimuli  uniformly  giving  rise  to 
the  same  adjustment.  Such  animals  are  not  able  to 
apply  experience  to  the  improvement  of  adjustment, 
and  are  consequently  not  amenable  to  the  influences 
of  education.  At  just  what  point  in  the  animal  series 
the  lower  Hmit  of  educability  is  to  be  placed  is  still  a  matter 
of  dispute,  but  it  is  generally  conceded  that  the  mammals, 
the  birds,  and  at  least  some  of  the  fishes  are  able  to  profit 
by  experience  in  varying  degrees,  while  the  invertebrates 
and  the  primitive  protozoa  probably  lack  this  capacity. 
Some  authorities  are  inchned  to  exclude  the  higher  inver- 
tebrates, especially  the  ants,  bees,  and  wasps,  from  the 
latter  class,  but  there  is  a  marked  tendency  to  look  upon 
even  the  complex  activities  of  these  forms  as  products 
of  pure  instinct.^    In  general,  then,  it  may  be  concluded 

almost  hopeless  task  so  long  as  one  maintains  that  anatomical  structures 
must  be  developed  through  a  long  series  of  gradual  changes.  Very  re- 
cently it  has  been  discovered,  however,  that  very  pronounced  variations 
are  not  entirely  lost  to  posterity,  but  reappear  in  a  definite  proportion  of 
the  progeny.  This  discovery,  if  generally  substantiated,  will  undoubtedly 
do  much  toward  clearing  away  these  difficulties.  (See  H.  de  Vries: 
Species  and  Varieties,  Chicago,  1904.) 

^  For  example,  A.  Bethe :  Durfen  wir  den  Ameisen  und  Bienen  psy- 
chische  Qualitdten  zuschreiben?  in  Pflueger's  Archiv,  1898.  H.  S.  Jen- 
nings ( Contributions  to  the  Study  of  the  Behavior  of  Lower  Organisms, 
Washington,  1904)  maintains,  however,  that,  even  in  very  primitive  ani- 
mal forms,  reaction  varies  with  experience.  (See  a  brief  critique  of 
Jennings's  theory  by  J.  B.  Watson,  in  Psychological  Bulletin,  1905,  vol. 
ii,  pp.  144  ff.)  R.  Pearl  (^Journal  of  Comparative  Neurology  and  Psy- 
chology,  1904,  vol.  xiv,  pp.  138  ff.)  also  believes  that  adjustment  in  some 
forms  improves  with  practice;  the  machine  "works  better";  but,  he 
maintains,  no  psychical  element  is  needed  to  explain  this. 


8  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

that  educability,  meaning  by  that  term  the  capacity  to 
profit  by  individual  experience,  is  limited  to  the  verte- 
brates (and  possibly  the  highly  organized  invertebrates), 
and  is  most  pronounced  in  man  and  his  nearest  relatives  in 
the  animal  kingdom,  —  the  lemurs,  monkeys,  and  anthro- 
poid apes,  —  together  with  the  animals  that  man  has 
been  able  to  train  for  his  own  service,  particularly  the 
horse,  the  dog,  and  the  elephant. 

6.  But  while  man  shares  with  some  of  the  higher  ver- 
tebrates the  capacity  for  education,  there  is  one  point 
in  which  his  position  is  practically  unique.  Man  must 
be  subjected  to  an  educative  process  before  he  can  com- 
plete his  development,  and  this  is  true  in  hke  degree  of 
none  of  the  lower  orders.  In  one  sense  it  is  not  so  much 
the  capacity  for  education  as  the  necessity  of  education 
that  differentiates  man  from  the  lower  animals. 

The  moment  that  the  moth  emerges  from  its  pupa  stage 
it  assumes  all  the  functions  of  an  adult  member  of  its 
species.  It  does  not  have  to  be  taught  where  and  how 
to  procure  its  food;  it  does  not  have  to  be  taught  where 
and  how  to  secure  shelter  or  protection  against  the  ele- 
ments; it  does  not  have  to  be  taught  where  and  how  to 
lay  its  eggs  and  provide  for  its  young.  If  it  does  these 
things,  it  does  them  by  instinct  —  by  the  innate  ten- 
dencies of  the  nervous  system  to  react  to  definite  situa- 
tions in  a  definite  manner.  Two  essential  points  are  to 
be  noted  in  this  connection:  the  moth  can  develop  into 
a  mature  insect  without  the  presence  or  aid  of  othei 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS   LOWEST   TERMS  9 

insects;  furthermore,  it  can  develop  into  just  as  good  a 
moth  as  either  of  its  parents.  Man,  on  the  other  hand, 
comes  into  the  world  immature;  only  a  very  few  of  the 
functions  of  complete  development  are  present  at  birth. 
Certain  functions,  as,  for  example,  nutrition,  are  opera- 
tive from  the  first,  and  these  are  based  entirely  upon  in- 
stinct. The  infant  possesses  a  nervous  mechanism  that 
will  respond  appropriately  to  certain  stimuli  immediately 
after  birth.  But  the  instincts  that  are  operative  in  the 
infant  are  obviously  much  less  efl&cient  than  those  of  the 
lower  forms.  Even  possessing  them  the  infant  is  a  help- 
less and  dependent  creature. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Suppose  that  a  method  were  devised 
by  means  of  which  food  and  shelter  could  be  provided 
mechanically  and  the  infant  left  to  develop  into  indepen- 
dent maturity  without  the  aid  of  parents  or  other  human 
beings.  There  is  no  need  to  make  such  an  experiment, 
for  the  results  would  be  obvious  from  the  outset.  The 
moth  is  "born"  just  as  good  a  moth  as  either  of  its  par- 
ents. But  the  infant,  even  if  he  could  reach  maturity 
without  the  aid  of  other  human  beings,  would  certainly 
not  be  so  good  a  man  as  his  father.  What  he  would 
lack  are  the  great  essentials  of  human  life  that  are  trans- 
mitted, not  directly  through  the  germ  cell,  but  indirectly 
by  social  contact,  —  culture,  "education,"  and  civihzed 
habits.     Professor    Baldwin  ^    has    termed    this    factor 

1  J.  M.  Baldwin:  Development  and  Evolution,  pp.  53-54;  also 
pp.   103  ff. 


10  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

"social  heredity"  in  contradistinction  to  physical  heredity 
or  physical  transmission. 

7.  It  is  generally  agreed  among  biologists  that  the  me- 
chanical agency  for  the  transmission  of  life  from  parent 
to  offspring  is  not  affected  in  a  significant  degree  by  the 
experience  of  the  parent.  That  is,  characteristics  that 
are  acquired  during  the  life  of  an  organism  —  even  before 
it  produces  offspring  —  are  not  transmitted  through 
the  germ  cell  (the  ovum  of  the  female  or  the  sperma- 
tozoon of  the  male)  to  the  offspring.  This  principle  of 
the  non-transmission  of  acquired  characteristics  has  not 
been  indisputably  established  as  yet,  but  that  it  holds 
good  in  the  main  no  one  apparently  is  ready  to  deny. 
We  may  therefore  build  upon  it  so  far  as  education  is 
concerned,  confident  that  the  objections  to  its  rigid  appU- 
cation,  even  if  they  be  sustained,  will  not  affect  the  vaUdity. 
of  our  deductions. 

The  question  of  the  transmissibility  of  acquired  character- 
istics forms  the  dividing  line  between  two  contemporary  schools 
of  evolutionists.  The  neo- Darwinians  contend  that  acquired 
characteristics  are  never  transmitted,  while  the  neo-Lamarckians 
maintain  that  acquired  characteristics  may  be  transmitted  under 
certain  conditions.  A  great  deal  of  evidence  has  been  brought 
forth  by  both  parties  to  the  controversy,  but  perhaps  the  most 
important  arguments  are  these :  — 

I.   In  favor  of  transmission. 

{a)  One  of  the  most  important  evidences  of  evolution  is 
the  picture  of  growth  and  development  that  is  revealed  by  the 
fossil  remains  of  plant  and  animal  life  found  in  different  geologi- 
cal strata.    These  remains  present  a  serial  progression  which, 


EDUCATION    REDUCED    TO    ITS    LOWEST    TERMS         li 

in  some  cases,  can  be  actually  reproduced  by  specimens.^  The 
neo-Lamarckians  argue  from  this  orderly  progression  that  the 
variations  appear  in  a  definite  direction.'*  This  would  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  factor  of  use  or  function  must  have  some  effect 
upon  inheritance ;  for,  they  say,  if  the  variations  were  promis- 
cuous or  accidental,  as  the  neo-Darwinian  maintains,  we  should 
find  among  the  fossil  remains  a  large  number  of  forms  varying 
from  the  normal  type,  some  in  one  direction,  some  in  another, 
above  and  beyond  those  that  form  the  true  serial  line  of  descent. 
That  is,  in  order  to  account  for  the  chance  production  of  a 
given  useful  organ,  one  would  have  to  believe  upon  the  neo- 
Darwinian  hypothesis  that  thousands,  if  not  milUons,  of  unfit 
variations  were  produced.  But,  the  neo-Lamarckian  objects, 
the  fossil  beds  fail  to  reveal  the  remains  of  these  forms  as  they 
should  had  such  forms  ever  existed.  Hence  the  gradual  im- 
provement in  the  adaptation  of  a  series  of  forms  must  be 
explained  upon  the  supposition  that,  through  "  use  "  during 
the  life  of  the  individual,  the  fit  characters  became  firmly  fixed 
and  were  then  transmitted  in  a  more  or  less  perfect  condition 
to  the  offspring.  Hence  the  phrase,  "use  inheritance,"  as 
applied  to  the  neo-Lamarckian  position. 

(J?)  Apart  from  this  deductive  argument,  factual  evidence 
has  been  brought  forward  attempting  to  show  by  concrete 
cases  :  (i)  that  variations  due  to  mechanical  causes  have  been 
inherited;  (2)  that  changes  due  to  nutrition  in  the  parent 
have  been  inherited;  (3)  that  characteristics  developed  by 
the  exercise  of  function  have  appeared  more  fully  developed 
in  the  offspring  than  they  originally  appeared  in  the  parent ; 

(4)  that  organs  transformed  through  disease  in  the  parent 
have   been  transmitted  in  their  new  form  to   the  offspring ; 

(5)  that  well- authenticated  cases  of  the  transmission  of  mutila- 

^  For  example,  the  phylogeny  of  the  horse;  see  E.  D.  Cope:  Primary 
Factors  of  Organic  Evolution,  Chicago,  1896,  pp.  146-150. 
*  Cope,  op,  cit.,  p.  13. 


12  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

tions  are  on  record ;  and  (6)  that  changes  in  environment  pro- 
duce  changes  in  bodily  characteribtics  that  are  transmitted  to 
the  offspring.^ 

2.   Against  transmission. 

(a)  The  Lamarckian  factor  of  "  use  inheritance "  was  not 
seriously  questioned  by  biologists  prior  to  1883.  Darwin  ^  had 
assumed  the  inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  but  had  con- 
structed his  theory  quite  independently  of  its  impUcations. 
Spencer  assumed  use  inheritance  throughout  his  "  Principles  of 
Biology,"  and  remained  to  the  last  an  active  opponent  of  the 
neo-Darwinian  hypothesis.  In  the  year  named,  however, 
August  Weismann  asserted  that  the  inheritance  of  acquired 
characters  was,  in  the  higher  animals  at  least,  a  physiological 
impossibility.  He  based  his  statement  upon  the  discovery  that 
had  recently  been  made  in  the  field  of  embryology,  relative  to 
the  "  continuity  of  the  germinal  protoplasm."  It  is  now  a 
well-known  fact  that  the  cells  concerned  with  reproduction  are 
differentiated  and  separated  from  the  other  cellular  elements 
of  the  body  (the  somatic  cells)  immediately  upon  the  segmen- 
tation of  the  fertilized  ovum.  Hence  the  reproductive  cells 
are  removed  from  the  influence  of  those  forces  that  modify  the 
somatic  cells.  Further  circumstances  during  life  cannot  directly 
or  definitely  affect  them ;  they  are  amenable  only  to  general 
influences,  such  as  nutrition.^ 

(^)  The  different  lines  of  factual  evidence  brought  forth  by 
the  neo-Lamarckian,  and  noted  above,  are  controverted  in 
various  ways  by  the  neo-Darwinian.  He  will  say,  for  example, 
that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  mutilations  are  not  trans- 

*  For  a  full  discussion  of  this  evidence,  see  Cope,  op.  cit.,  ch.  viii. 

*  Origin  of  Species,  vol.  i,  ch.  i,  "  As  far  as  I  am  able  to  judge,  .  .  .  the 
conditions  of  life  appear  to  act  in  two  ways,  —  directly  on  the  whole  organi- 
zation or  on  certain  parts  alone,  and  indirectly  by  affecting  the  reproductive 
system." 

'  A.  Weismann  •  The  Germ  Plasm,  New  York,  1893 ;  VorirSge  ubet 
die  Deszendemtheorie,  Jena,  1904. 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS   LOWEST   TERMS         1 3 

mitted.^  The  same  is  true  of  variations  due  to  mechanical 
causes.''  The  influences  of  nutrition  and  disease,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  to  be  classed  among  the  general  influences  from  which 
the  germinal  protoplasm  is  not  free.  Variations  that  are  thought 
to  be  due  to  geographical  conditions  would  certainly  appear  in 
the  offspring  as  well  as  in  the  parent  as  long  as  the  offspring 
lived  under  similar  conditions.^ 

Now  if  an  organism  has  no  means  of  transmitting 
its  acquired  characteristics  —  the  products  of  its  expe- 
rience —  to  its  offspring,  any  improvement  that  the  off- 
spring may  make  over  the  condition  of  its  parents  will 
depend  upon  one  or  both  of  two  factors:  (a)  the  influ- 
ence of  a  more  favorable  environment  in  which  the 
various  functions  will  work  together  to  better  advan- 
tage; or  (&)  the  environment  remaining  the  same,  a 
variation  that  permits  in  the  offspring  a  more  effi- 
cient adaptation  than  was  possible  in  either  of  the 
parents. 

8.  Such  are  the  general  conditions  of  progress  in  all 
the  lower  forms  of  hfe.  But  the  non-transmission  of 
acquired  characters  through  the  germ  cell  does  not  pre- 
clude all  possibiUty  of  transmitting  from  generation  to 
generation   the   products    of   experience.     It   only   pre- 

1  The  well-known  fact  that  the  "  docking  "  of  the  tails  of  sheep  for  sev- 
eral centuries  has  never  produced  a  variety  of  tailless  sheep  is  frequently 
cited. 

*"The  feet  of  the  Chinese  do  not  indicate  that  their  long  habit  of 
compression  has  yet  produced  any  hereditary  results."  —  Edith  E.  Wood: 
Noies  on  Oriental  Babies,  in  American  Anthropologist,  1903,  vol.  v,  no,  4. 

'  See  also  W.  K.  Brooks :  Foundations  of  Zoology,  New  York,  1899, 
lectures  iv  and  v. 


14  THE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

eludes  such  transmission  through  a  certain  channel. 
For  animals  that  come  to  independent  maturity  imme- 
diately after  birth,  all  other  channels  of  progress  are 
closed.  For  animals,  however,  that  are  cared  for  dur- 
ing a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  dependence,  the  pos- 
sibihty  of  utihzing  the  experience  of  the  parent  and  thus 
of  advancing  beyond  the  condition  which  the  parent  rep- 
resents is  still  open.  While  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that 
some  of  the  higher  forms  below  man  train  their  young 
during  a  plastic  period  of  infancy,  it  is  not  altogether 
clear  that  this  training  forms  an  appreciable  advance 
over  the  transmission  of  characters  through  physical 
heredity.  That  is  to  say,  the  training  in  itself  is  largely 
instinctive,  following  the  same  plan  generation  after  gen- 
eration, and  influenced  very  httle,  if  at  all,  by  the  expe- 
rience of  the  parent.  And  at  the  very  best,  of  course, 
the  possibility  of  transmitting  experience  is,  in  animals 
below  man,  greatly  curtailed  by  the  lack  of  an  efficient 
medium  of  communication. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  man's  supremacy  in  the  animal 
series  is  due  to  his  ability  to  profit,  not  only  by  his  own 
experiences,  but  also  by  the  experiences  of  others.  Not 
only  is  this  true,  but  it  is  also  not  to  be  doubted  that, 
without  this  twofold  capacity,  man  would  be  far  below 
many  other  vertebrates  and  would  be  placed  at  a  tre- 
mendous disadvantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 
"Every  child  is  born  destitute  of  things  possessed  in 
manhood  which  distinguish  him  from  the  lower  animals. 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS    LOWEST   TERMS         1 5 

Of  all  industries  he  is  artless;  of  all  institutions  he  is 
lawless;  of  all  languages  he  is  speechless;  of  all  philos- 
ophies he  is  opinionless;  of  all  reasoning  he  is  thought- 
less; but  arts,  institutions,  languages,  opinions,  and  men- 
tations he  acquires  as  years  go  by  from  childhood  to 
manhood.  In  all  these  respects  the  new-bom  babe 
is  hardly  the  peer  of  the  new-born  beast;  but,  as  the 
years  pass,  ever  and  ever  he  exhibits  his  superiority  in 
all  the  great  classes  of  activities  until  the  distance  by 
which  he  is  separated  from  the  brute  is  so  great  that 
his  realm  of  existence  is  in  another  kingdom  of  nature."  ^ 

9.  In  order  still  more  forcibly  to  emphasize  the  fun- 
damental importance  of  the  educative  process  in  human 
life,  it  will  be  profitable  to  compare  man's  chances  for 
progress  with  those  of  the  lower  animals. 

(a)  It  has  been  noted  above  that,  leaving  out  the  fac- 
tor of  experience,  any  improvement  that  an  organism 
may  make  over  the  condition  of  its  predecessors  will 
depend  on  either  (i)  the  influence  of  a  more  favorable 
environment  in  which  the  various  functions  will  work 
together  more  harmoniously,  or  (2),  the  environment 
remaining  the  same,  a  variation  that  permits  in  the 
ofiFspring  a  more  efficient  adaptation  than  was  possible 
in  either  of  the  parents.  In  what  degree  will  these  fac- 
tors operate  in  man?  It  is  clear  that,  as  a  mobile  crea- 
ture,  he   can   change  his   environment  to   one  perhaps 

IJ.  W.  Powell,  quoted  by  A.  F.  Chamberlain:  TAe  CAtld,  London, 
1900,  p.  I, 


l6  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

better  suited  to  his  capacities.  Assuming  his  inher- 
ited or  congenital  characteristics  to  be  exact  replica  of 
his  parents',  he  may  be  able,  nevertheless,  to  find  an 
environment  where  these  characteristics  would  be  of 
better  service  to  him  than  they  were  to  the  latter.  This 
is  constantly  illustrated  by  the  phenomena  of  human 
migration.  But,  primarily,  man  is  not  more  mobile 
than  many  other  mammals  and  far  less  mobile  than 
numberless  birds  and  insects.  In  these  lower  forms, 
however,  the  discovery  of  a  more  favorable  environ- 
ment depends  largely  upon  chance,  while  with  man  the 
factor  of  intelligence  operates.  If  it  were  not  for  this 
factor,  together  with  the  secondary  means  of  locomotion 
which  his  intelligence  enables  him  to  utilize,  it  is  safe 
to  say  that,  in  this  particular,  man  would  be  at  a  great 
disadvantage  compared  with  many  other  forms,  in  so  far 
as  improvement  through  change  of  habitat  is  concerned. 

(b)  Regarding  the  second  factor,  it  is  clear  that,  in 
a  changing  environment,  —  such  as  the  advance  and 
retreat  of  an  ice  cap,  —  variations  may  be  produced 
that  will  be  adaptable  to  changed  conditions  and  thus 
serve  to  perpetuate  the  line  of  descent.  Can  improve- 
ments in  human  adjustment  also  be  laid  at  the  door 
of  variation  and,  if  so,  to  what  extent? 

The  tendency  to  variation  is  common  to  all  forms 
of  organic  life,  but  it  differs  in  degree  with  different 
species  and  genera.  Thus,  among  domestic  animals,  the 
cat  varies  very  little  as  compared  with  the  dog,  and  the 


EDUCATION   REDUCED   TO    ITS    LOWEST   TERMS        1 7 

turkey  very  little  as  compared  with  the  barnyard  fowl.^ 
When  we  compare  man  with  other  animals,  we  find 
that  his  tendency  to  variation  is  not  particularly  marked. 
Indeed,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  man  is  one  of  the  least  vari- 
able of  all  animal  forms. 

The  only  important  change  that  has  taken  place  in 
man's  structure  since  Eocene  times  has  been  a  marvel- 
ous increase  in  the  size  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres.* 
This  means  that  during  approximately  two  and  one 
half  miUion  years  man's  bodily  structure  has  remained 
practically  the  same,  save  for  this  increase  in  the  size 
of  the  brain.  But  even  more  remarkable  is  the  fact 
that  from  Pleistocene  times  onward  —  a  period  of  at 
least  a  half-milUon  years  —  there  has  been  very  little 
change  even  in  the  form  and  size  of  the  brain;  while 
it  is  still  more  remarkable  that,  during  the  period  cov- 
ered by  human  history,  —  perhaps  eight  thousand  years, 
—  there  has  been  no  apparent  change  in  the  gross  ana- 
tomical structure  of  this  organ.  It  may  be  that  changes 
in  the  microscopical  structure  have  been  occurring  as 
the  result  of  natural  selection,  and  that  these,  as  well  as 
the  fund  of  useful  traditions  at  his  disposal,  have  con- 
tributed to  man's  mental  superiority.    These  changes 

*  Cope,  op.  cit.,  p.  21. 

3  Cope,  op.  cit.,  p.  150,  "  It  is  only  in  the  structure  of  the  brain  and  the 
reproductive  system  that  man  shows  an  advance  over  the  Eocene  type." 
Keane,  on  the  other  hand,  admits  nothing  more  than  a  "generalized 
precursor,  differing  specifically  from  all  present  varieties,"  even  in  Plio- 
cene times.     (A.  H.  Keane :  Ethnology,  Cambridge,  1901,  p.  69.) 

C 


l8  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

in  the  finer  structure  are,  however,  yet  to  be  demon' 
strated.  When  we  remember  that  this  latter  period  has 
witnessed  the  most  profound  changes  in  everything  that 
we  call  human,  we  are  in  a  position  to  comprehend  in 
some  shght  measure  the  absolute  insignificance  to  man 
of  the  factors  that  make  for  progress  in  the  lower  orders. 
Away  back  in  Neohthic,  perhaps  even  in  Paleolithic,  times, 
Nature  finished  her  work  as  far  as  man  is  concerned. 
The  forces  of  structural  variation,  which  mean  everything 
to  the  lower  orders,  then  came  to  an  abrupt  halt  in  the 
human  species.  Since  that  time  man's  progress  has  been 
determined  by  another  factor.  We  may  call  this  factor 
culture,  we  may  call  it,  with  Baldwin,  "social  heredity," 
we  may  call  it  moraUty,  we  may  call  it  civiHzation;  but 
whatever  we  call  it,  its  essence  is  education  in  the  broadest 
sense:  the  acquisition,  the  retention,  and  the  organization 
of  experiences  that  shall  serve  to  modify  and  render  more 
efificient  man's  adjustment  to  his  environment. 

Measured  by  all  the  standards  of  the  brute  world,  man 
seems  to  be  almost  pitiably  unfortunate.  Nature  has  provided 
other  animals  with  fur  coverings  for  protection  against  cold, 
with  migratory  instincts  which  lead  them  to  avoid  unfavorable 
environments,  with  teeth  and  tusks  and  claws  for  offense  and 
defense.  Or,  if  Nature  has  not  provided  these  things  directly, 
she  has  at  least  provided  tendencies  to  variation  that  have 
resulted  in  their  development.  Man,  on  the  other  hand,  lacks 
both  the  factors  and  the  tendency  to  variation  which  might 
produce  them.  And  yet  the  lack  of  a  natural  covering  for  the 
body,  the  lack  of  natural  weapons,  even  the  lack  of  a  proclivity 
for  variation,  have  all  been  positive  forces  in  human  progress. 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS   LOWEST   TERMS        I9 

The  endowments  that  man  lacks  have  been  too  easy  a  means  of 
survival  and  progress.  Nature  has  always  set  a  premium  upon 
the  successful  surmounting  of  difficulties.  Throughout  the  en- 
tire range  of  life,  we  find  that  advancement  has  been  corre- 
lated, not  with  what  would  seem  at  first  glance  to  be  the  most 
favorable  conditions,  but  rather  with  conditions  that  have 
offered  serious  obstacles  to  life. 

It  is  beyond  doubt  that  life  began  with  simple,  unicellular 
forms,  living  at  or  near  the  surface  of  the  ocean.  Professor 
Brooks  ^  has  shown  that  this  is  the  most  favorable  environment 
for  the  genesis  and  perpetuation  of  life  that  the  earth  has  ever 
afforded.  "  At  the  surface  of  the  ocean  the  abundance  and  uni- 
form distribution  of  mineral  food  in  solution,  the  area  which  is 
available  for  plants,  the  volume  of  sunlight,  and  the  uniformity 
of  the  temperature  are  all  favorable  to  the  growth  of  plants, 
and  as  each  plant  is  bathed  on  all  sides  by  a  nutritive  fluid,  it 
is  advantageous  for  the  new  plant-cells  which  are  formed  by  cell 
multiplication  to  separate  from  each  other  as  soon  as  possible,  in 
order  to  expose  the  whole  of  their  surface  to  the  water.  Cell 
aggregation,  the  first  step  toward  higher  organization,  is  there- 
fore disadvantageous  to  the  pelagic  plants."  Hence  it  comes 
about  that  we  find  to-day,  upon  the  surface  of  the  ocean, 
myriads  of  primitive  forms  that  are  undoubtedly  the  exact 
replica  of  forms  that  existed  millions  of  years  ago  at  the  very 
dawn  of  life.  It  was  not  until  some  of  these  forms  migrated  to 
the  sea  floor,  and  later  to  the  dry  land,  that  aggregation  and 
differentiation  gave  the  first  impetus  to  progress.  "The 
pelagic  plant  life  of  the  ocean  has  retained  its  primitive  sim- 
plicity on  account  of  the  very  favorable  character  of  its  environ- 
ment, and  the  higher  rank  of  the  littoral  vegetation  and  that  of 
the  land  is  the  result  of  hardship."* 

^  W.  K.  Brooks :  Foundations  of  Zo'dlogy,  p.  225. 

'  Brooks,  op.  cit.,  p.  224  (italics  mine).  Cf.  also  p.  219:  "A  lingula  if 
•till  living  in  the  sand-bars  and  mud-flats  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  undei 
conditions  which  have  not  effected  any  change  in  its  structure  since  th# 


20  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

Passing  over  the  long  ages  that  elapsed  between  these  fir^ 
steps  in  progress  and  the  appearance  of  the  human  species, 
it  is  still  apparent  that  the  same  principle  is  operative.  The 
highest  types  of  human  development  in  the  earhest  times  of 
which  we  have  record  were  not  found  in  the  most  favored 
environments.  The  influence  of  the  desert  upon  civilization 
has  often  been  noted.  The  great  river  valleys  of  the  Nile  and 
Euphrates  were  the  seats  of  ancient  civilization,  not  from  acci- 
dent, but  because  the  constant  struggle  with  the  encroaching 
desert  brought  out,  selected,  and  developed  those  characteristics 
that  we  identify  with  human  progress.  Mere  brute  strength 
and  brute  cunning  were  not  adequate  to  meet  the  conditions  of 
life.  Agriculture  must  be  depended  upon  for  food,  and  under 
desert  conditions  successful  agriculture  means  a  high  degree 
of  intelligence.  In  the  struggle  for  survival  under  these  con- 
ditions, a  premium  was  set  upon  mental  rather  than  physical 
prowess,  and  the  forms  of  life  that  lacked  intelligence  were 
swiftly  eliminated. 

Under  more  modem  conditions,  we  find  that  the  highest 
types  of  human  progress  are  represented  by  races  inhabiting 
the  temperate  zones,  where  men  must  consciously  struggle 
during  the  summer  to  provide  food  and  shelter  and  clothing 
against  the  coming  of  the  winter.  The  survival  of  the  fittest  in 
such  an  environment  means  a  survival  of  the  intelligent,  the 
industrious,  the  temperate.  It  means  the  selection  and  per- 
petuation of  those  that  can  look  ahead,  that  can  hold  a  remote 
end  clearly  in  mind,  that  can  sacrifice  the  desires  and  impulses 
of  the  moment  to  the  duties  of  the  future. 

How  far  is  this  principle  to  be  carried  ?  Is  one  to  say  that 
the  chances  for  progress  always  bear  an  inverse  ratio  to  the 
superficial  advantages  that  an  environment  affords?      If  this 

times  of  the  Lower  Cambrian.  .  .  .  The  everlasting  hills  are  the  type  of 
venerable  antiquity;  but  lingula  has  seen  the  continents  grow  up,  and  has 
maintained  its  integrity  unmoved  by  the  convulsions  which  have  given  the 
crust  of  the  earth  its  present  form." 


EDUCATION    REDUCED   TO    ITS    LOWEST   TERMS        21 

wrere  true,  the  frigid  zones  should  be  the  seats  of  the  highest 
type  of  civiUzation,  and  the  best  type  of  individual  manhood 
should  consistently  arise  from  the  gutter.  Certainly  a  line  must 
be  drawn  at  some  point.  Somewhere  between  the  privation 
and  discomfort  of  the  Polar  regions  and  the  ease  and  luxury  of 
the  tropics  there  lies  an  optimal  zone  for  progress ;  and  some- 
where between  the  idleness  and  caprice  of  the  favored  child  of 
fortune  and  the  sodden,  ceaseless,  mechanical  drudgery  of  "  The 
Man  with  the  Hoe,"  there  lies  the  optimal  zone  for  individual 
achievement.  "A  favorable  environment  in  any  case  is  not 
one  free  from  struggle,  but  rather  one  in  which  the  organism  is 
victorious  in  its  conflicts,  and  in  which  the  victory  is  not  bought 
at  too  great  a  price."  ^ 

To  summarize.  Despite  its  weakened  capacity  for 
variation,  the  human  species  possesses  two  characteris- 
tics that  place  it  far  in  advance  of  all  other  animal  forms 
in  so  far  as  its  chances  for  improvement  over  past  con- 
ditions are  concerned,  (i)  Man  has  the  capacity  to 
profit  by  his  own  experiences;  and  (2)  the  additional 
capacity  to  profit  by  the  experiences  of  the  race.  The 
higher  animals  share  with  him  the  first  capacity  to  a 
limited  extent;  the  second  capacity  is  his  alone.  It  is 
the  prerogative  0}  man  to  transmit  to  his  offspring  acquired 
characteristics.  An  experience  that  modifies  adjustment 
certainly  gives  rise  to  an  acquired  characteristic.  Knowl- 
edge is  race  experience.  Knowledge  is  the  greatest  and 
most  potent  of  all  acquired  characteristics. 

10.  These  two  capacities,  which  mean  so  much  to  man, 

*  L.  F.  Barker :  American  Text-book  of  Pathology,  Philadelphia,  1 901, 
p.  18  (preface). 


22  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

are  both  dependent  in  very  large  degree  upon  the  power 
of  speech.  That  this  is  true  with  the  capacity  to  profit 
by  the  experiences  of  others  is  obvious  enough.  That 
it  is  equally  true  of  the  capacity  to  profit  by  individual 
experiences  must  be  left  for  later  demonstration. 

II.  Education  may  he  tentatively  defined,  then,  as  the 
process  by  means  0}  which  the  individual  acquires  expe- 
riences that  will  junction  in  rendering  more  efficient  his 
future  action.  The  life  of  the  individual  is  limited:  give 
him  no  guidance  and  each  generation  must  practically 
repeat,  step  by  step,  the  Hfe  of  its  predecessors.  The 
only  chance  for  improvement  would  Ue,  as  with  the  lower 
animals,  in  the  abiUty  to  change  the  habitat  or  in  the 
proclivity  to  congenital  variation.  When,  however,  the 
individual  has  at  his  disposal  not  only  his  own  experi- 
ences and  those  of  his  hneal  predecessors,  but,  with  both 
these,  the  experiences  of  his  contemporaries  and  of  his 
ancestors'  contemporaries,  the  equipment  that  he  pos- 
sesses for  his  struggle  with  the  environment  is  far  and 
away  superior  to  that  of  any  other  animal,  and  his 
chances  for  improvement  and  progress  are  far  greater. 
It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  education  is  the  larg- 
est word  in  the  vocabulary  of  life,  for  it  symboUzes  all 
those  forces  that  have  raised  man  from  the  plane  of  the 
brute,  all  those  characteristics  that  differentiate  him  from 
the  speechless  anthropoid,  the  Homo  alalus,  with  which, 
not  so  very  long  ago,  he  was  to  be  identified. 


CHAPTER  n 
The  Function  of  the  School 

1.  If  the  tentative  definition  of  education  with  which 
the  last  chapter  closed  is  valid,  it  follows  that  the  acqui- 
sition of  any  experience  whatsoever  that  serves  to  modify 
future  adjustment  is  an  educative  process.  One  is  per- 
haps apt  to  think  of  education  as  confined  to  the  school, 
or,  at  most,  to  the  school  and  the  home.  This  is  mani- 
festly a  narrow  view,  and  one  that  has  done  much  to 
create  in  the  popular  mind  an  antithesis  between  edu- 
cation and  life.  Throughout  the  years  of  childhood, 
at  least,  there  is  very  little  that  the  individual  does  that 
is  without  some  effect  upon  his  future  adjustment.  It 
is  therefore  well  to  divide  educational  forces  into  two 
classes:  (a)  informal  education,  embodying  those  modi- 
fying influences  to  which  every  individual  is  subjected 
in  varying  degrees,  and  (b)  formal  education,  embody- 
ing the  modifying  influences  the  control  of  which  is 
consciously  assumed  either  by  the  individual  himself 
or  by  some  educative  agency,  such  as  the  school,  the 
home,  or  the  church. 

(a)  Informal  education  is  symbolized  by  the  common 
saying,   "Experience   is   the   best   teacher."    It   would 

^23. 


24  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

appear  from  the  previous  discussion  that  this  statemeni 
is  a  palpable  truism,  for  when  education  is  reduced  to 
its  lowest  terms,  experience  is  seen  to  be  the  only  teacher. 
What  the  phrase  is  intended  to  convey  is  this:  experi- 
ences that  are  gained  incidentally  in  the  course  of  the 
individual  Ufe  are  much  more  eflFective  in  modifying 
adjustment  than  experiences  gained  formally  for  this 
express  purpose.  Stated  in  this  way,  the  proposition 
involves  an  assumption  that  schools  and  teachers  are 
inferior  in  efl&ciency  to  the  educative  forces  of  practical 
life.  That  this  proposition  is  generally  valid  can  scarcely 
be  doubted.  "The  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire"  much 
more  effectively  than  the  child  who  is  carefully  instructed 
that  the  fire  will  burn  him.  A  youth  will  assimilate  a 
greater  number  of  useful  experiences  in  a  bank  than 
he  will  in  a  commercial  school.  In  general,  the  experi- 
ences that  issue  from  "practical"  fife  will  have  a  more 
lasting  efi'ect  and  will  function  more  effectively  than 
the  experiences  gained  in  school.  The  truth  of  this 
statement  is  self-evident.  The  reason  that  lies  behind 
it,  however,  reveals  an  important  lesson  for  pedagogy 
which  must  be  left  for  later  discussion. 

Notwithstanding  its  unquestioned  advantages,  how- 
ever, informal  education  has  some  marked  Hmitations. 
(i)  It  is  unsystematic:  it  fixes  only  the  experiences 
that  happen  to  come,  and  makes  no  provisions  for  expe- 
riences that  may  not  be  presented  until  adjustment 
has  come  to  move  in  fixed  channels;    until  the  bodily 


THE  FUNCTION   OF  THE  SCHOOL  2$ 

tendencies  are  finn  and  stable,  and  hence  insusceptible 
to  ready  modification.  (2)  It  is  uneconomical:  it  leaves 
out  of  account  the  mass  of  experience  that  the  race  has 
acquired,  and  thus  virtually  leaves  unutilized  the  capacity 
which  man  alone  possesses  to  profit  by  the  experience 
of  others.  If  the  child  had  a  hfe  as  long  as  that  of  the 
race,  and  if  he  remained  in  a  plastic  stage  throughout 
this  period,  we  might  well  leave  him  to  work  out  his 
own  salvation.  In  short,  the  phrase,  "Experience  is 
the  best  teacher,"  is  not  nearly  so  profound  as  the  quali- 
fication that  is  commonly  added,  ''Experience  is  the 
best  teacher,  and  also  the  dearest.^' 

(b)  Formal  education,  then,  while  it  labors  under 
certain  inherent  disadvantages,  is  seen  to  perform  an 
indispensable  function  in  Hfe.  It  does  not  leave  the 
child  to  the  haphazard  operation  of  natural  forces,  but 
sees  to  it  that  he  assimilates,  whether  he  will  or  no,  those 
experiences  which,  it  has  learned,  will  help  him  the  most. 
It  may  place  him  in  environments  where  such  experi- 
ences cannot  fail  to  be  gained,  or  it  may  simply  transmit 
to  him  the  experience  of  the  race  through  the  medium 
of  language.  In  either  case,  its  function  is  selective  and 
in  this  sense  it  is  a  formal  —  even  an  artificial  —  process. 

2.  The  fundamental  agency  of  formal  education  is 
the  family.  It  is  true  that  family  Hfe  affords  number- 
less opportunities  for  education  of  the  informal  type, 
but,  essentially,  the  atmosphere  of  the  home  is  dominated 
by  a  conscious  purpose  to  bring  the  child  into  harmony 


36  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

with  whatever  degree  of  civilized  life  the  home  may 
represent.  It  is  here  that  the  first  steps  are  taken 
away  from  the  animal,  away  from  the  brute.  Care- 
fully and  patiently  the  habits  of  personal  cleanhness 
and  decency  are  inculcated  —  in  part  through  imitation ; 
in  part,  too,  by  conscious  instruction  involving  the  cor- 
rection of  mistakes,  the  serial  repetition  of  trial  and 
error,  the  positive  and  conscious  setting  up  of  models 
of  speech  and  deportment  for  conscious  and  painstaking 
imitation.  And  beyond  this  is  the  impressing  of  the 
ideals  of  morality  and  religion  and  the  very  fundamentals 
of  that  national  or  race  ideal  that  draws  its  nourish- 
ment from  the  home  as  the  unit  of  all  human  society. 
"At  all  stages  of  educational  history,"  says  Laurie,^ 
"the  family  is  the  chief  agency  in  the  education  of  the 
young,  and,  as  such,  it  ought  never  to  be  superseded." 
In  the  most  primitive  forms  of  human  society,  the 
home  is  the  sole  agency  of  formal  education,  involving, 
in  addition  to  the  fundamental  functions  just  mentioned, 
conscious  instruction  in  whatever  crude  arts  of  hunting 
and  warfare  the  adult  members  of  the  family  may  prac- 
tice.2  Among  many  primitive  tribes,  it  is  true,  this  edu- 
cation of  the  home  or  family  is  supplemented  at  the 
onset  of  adolescence  by  different  types  of  initiatory  cere- 
monies which  serve,  in  some  measure,  as  a  medium  of 
formal  instruction  undertaken  by  the  community  rather 

^  S.  S.  Laurie:  Pre-Christian  Education,  New  York,  1900,  p.  6. 
•T.  Davidson:  History  of  Education,  New  York,  1900,  p.  aa 


THE   FUNCTION    OF   THE   SCHOOL  2^ 

than  the  family;^  but  this  would  seem,  in  the  majority 
of  cases,  to  be  more  in  the  nature  of  a  religious  rite  than 
of  an  agency  of  formal  education ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  deter- 
mined by  custom  and  precedent  rather  than  by  a  con- 
scious purpose  to  bring  the  child  into  harmony  with 
the  tribal  institutions,  although  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  it  serves,  in  a  measure,  to  fulfill  this  latter  function. 
3.  Passing  from  the  stage  of  savagery  to  the  stage  of 
barbarism,  a  differentiation  of  the  educative  function 
is  first  to  be  found.  "The  barbarian,  as  distinguished 
from  the  savage  stage  of  culture,  begins  at  the  point 
where  men  learn  to  control  natural  forces  —  fire,  water, 
wind  —  and  to  apply  them  directly  to  the  satisfaction 
of  their  desires."^  With  this  progress  in  culture  comes 
a  division  of  labor.  Social  life,  before  unsettled  and 
perhaps  nomadic,  becomes  relatively  fixed  and  perma- 
nent. The  home  retains  its  fundamental  educative 
functions,  but  the  training  in  the  primitive  arts  of  hunting 
and  warfare  gives  place  to  a  more  thorough  training 
in  special  trades  —  a  training,  moreover,  not  neces- 
sarily confined  to  the  home.  As  the  crafts  of  rudimen- 
tary civiHzation  became  specialized,  the  masters  in  these 
crafts  undertook  the  education  of  "apprentices,"  and 
"guild"  instruction  forms  the  first  type  of  conscious 
or  formal  education  outside  the  family.^ 

^  J.  Deniker:  The  Races  of  Man,  London,  1901,  pp.  241  ff. ;  see  also 
A.  H.  Daniels :  The  New  Life,  in  American  Journal  of  Psychology,  1893, 
vol.  vi,  pp.  61-106. 

*  Davidson,  op.  cit.,  p.  25.  •  Davidson,  op.  cii.,  p.  26. 


28  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

With  this  division  of  labor  there  also  arose  the  so 
cial  castes,  —  priests,  soldiers,  producers.  Of  these 
the  priests  became  the  conservators  of  whatever  race- 
experience  had  been  concentrated  or  condensed  into  the 
forms  of  knowledge.  It  was  their  duty  to  interpret, 
to  explain,  to  forecast.  Knowledge,  or  the  past  expe- 
rience of  the  race,  however  crude  and  inadequate,  how- 
ever heavily  overlaid  with  superstition  and  mystery  and 
speculation,  became  the  tool  with  which  they  worked. 

Davidson  ^  points  out  that,  just  as  the  discovery  of  fire 
laid  the  basis  for  the  arts,  so  the  discovery  of  writing  laid 
the  basis  for  science.  With  writing  came  the  preser- 
vation of  knowledge  in  relatively  fixed  and  permanent 
forms.  Hitherto  the  medium  of  social  heredity  had 
been  oral  discourse.  The  race-experiences  shaped  them- 
selves into  myths  and  legends,  epics  and  sagas;  and 
wandering  bards,  of  which  Homer  is  the  type,  scattered 
broadcast  the  crude  and  primitive  wisdom  thus  repre- 
sented. But  with  the  advent  of  writing  this  medium  of 
transmission  gradually  lost  its  place.^  With  the  advent 
of  writing,  also,  education  assumed  a  new  significance. 
The  priestly  caste  still  further  monopolized  the  pre- 
rogatives of  learning;  education  came  to  mean  still 
more  the  assimilation  of  knowledge  rather  than  the  ac- 
quisition of  experience.     The  temple  became  a  school. 

*  Davidson,  o/.  cti.,  p.  28. 

2  But  oral  transmission  was  not  so  inefficient  as  we  seem  to  think  to*daj; 
see  E.  B.  Tylor :  Anthropology,  New  York,  1896,  ch.  xv. 


THE    FUNCTION    OF    THE    SCHOOL  29 

A  new  type  of  formal  education,  centering  in  books 
and  neglecting  all  arts  save  those  concerned  with  lan- 
guage, became  a  fixed  and  permanent  function  of  religion. 

4.  How  the  modern  school  gradually  developed  from 
this  educational  appendage  of  the  church,  the  history 
of  education  relates.  For  centuries  only  partially  dif- 
ferentiated from  the  priesthood,  Schoolcraft  finally  secured 
an  independent  footing  in  the  division  of  labor.  Still 
more  gradually  it  came  to  concern  itself  with  the  practi- 
cal as  well  as  the  theoretical,  with  the  arts  as  well  as  the 
sciences.  This  has  been  at  best  only  a  very  recent  devel- 
opment and  the  full  fruition  is  not  yet;  but  education 
as  concerned  with  all  conscious  and  purposeful  modi- 
fications of  adjustment  through  experience  is  coming 
to  be  recognized  as  the  true  function  of  the  school.  No 
longer  limited  to  the  realm  of  the  intellectual  and  "ab- 
stract," it  touches  life  at  all  points.  This  conception  is 
both  narrower  and  broader  than  that  which  it  is  dis- 
placing so  rapidly.  It  subordinates  the  ideal  to  the 
practical;  it  sacrifices  science  to  service  and  truth  to  Hfe. 
But  on  the  other  hand  it  idealizes  the  practical,  ration- 
alizes service,  and  enriches  life.  It  involves  serious 
dangers  as  well  as  undoubted  blessings,  but  if  the  dan- 
gers can  be  counteracted,  the  movement  assuredly  augurs 
well  for  the  future  of  the  school. 

5.  One  further  point  remains  to  be  considered  in 
connection  with  the  function  of  the  school.  As  an  agency 
of  formal  education,  its  field  is  largely  limited  to  the 


30  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

period  of  individual  immaturity,  —  the  so-called  "  period 
of  infancy,"  and  to  understand  the  function  of  the  school 
one  must  grasp  in  some  measure  the  significance  of 
this  period  to  human  evolution. 

The  biological  meaning  of  the  helplessness  and  depend- 
ence of  infancy  has  been  fully  recognized  only  in  recent 
years.  While  some  of  the  Greek  philosophers  hinted 
vaguely  at  its  function,-*  it  is  to  John  Fiske  that  the  credit 
must  be  given  for  endowing  education  with  what  is 
perhaps  its  most  illuminating  conception.^ 

(a)  In  the  first  place,  infancy  is  a  period  of  necessary 
dependence.  The  child  fives  what  might  well  be  termed 
an  artificial  fife  —  a  fife  where  everything  is  provided  for 
him,  where  he  has  to  take  no  thought  of  food  or  shelter 
or  clothing,  where  responsibility  is  borne  by  other  shoul- 
ders. This  means  that  the  energy  which  would,  under 
other  conditions,  be  devoted  to  procuring  food  and  cloth- 
ing and  providing  shelter  is  available  for  other  purposes. 

(6)  In  the  second  place,  infancy  is  a  period  of  plas- 
ticity. The  lower  animals  are  bom  with  nerve  connec- 
tions already  fixed  and,  except  in  the  higher  vertebrates, 
comparatively  permanent  and  stable.  In  the  nervous 
system  of  man,  the  entire  cerebrum  is  practically  un- 
organized at  birth.  It  is  a  mass  of  latent  possibilities, 
and  whatever  connections  are  made  later  are  due  almost 


1  Cf.  E.  G.  Burnet :  Early  Greek  Philosophers,  London,  1892,  p.  74} 
cited  by  Chamberlain. 

•  J.  Fisiie:   Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy ,  London,  1874. 


THE    FUNCTION    OF    THE   SCHOOL  Jl 

entirely  to  the  forces  of  the  environment  and  not  to  the 
forces  of  heredity.  But  these  connections,  once  made, 
also  tend  in  the  course  of  time  to  become  permanent 
and  somewhat  inflexible.  That  is,  after  a  certain  plastic 
period  the  nervous  tissue  loses  some  measure  of  its 
plasticity.  While  it  is  still  possible  to  learn  new  adjust- 
ments, —  to  acquire  and  profit  by  experiences,  —  after 
this  time  the  task  is  much  more  difficult.^ 

The  meaning  of  infancy  is,  therefore,  economic  leisure 
—  freedom  from  the  responsibilities  of  food-getting  and 
self-support  —  and  organic  plasticity.  Curiously  enough, 
the  Greek  equivalent  of  the  EngUsh  word  "  school "  — 
schole  —  also  means  leisure.  Because  the  child  must  be 
supported  by  the  labor  of  others  during  this  period,  he  can 
utilize  his  time  and  energy  for  remote  rather  than  imme- 
diate ends;  he  can  store  up  experiences  for  future  years. 
Because  his  body,  and  especially  his  upper  nerve  centers, 
are  in  a  plastic  condition,  the  experiences  that  he  acquires 
at  this  time  can  most  easily  make  a  deep  and  abiding 
impression.  "A  comparatively  witless  infancy  must 
augur  the  high  intellectual  development  of  the  men  and 
women  of  the  race.    What  a  vast  difference  between  the 

^  The  significance  of  human  infancy  as  a  period  of  plasticity  has  a  close 
parallel  in  the  lower  animals.  J.  B,  Watson  (^Animal  Education,  Chicago, 
1903)  has  shown  that  the  mental  development  of  the  white  rat  is  directly 
correlated  with  the  meduUation  of  fibers  in  the  central  nervous  system  after 
birth.  Similar  studies  made  by  Jessie  Allen  on  the  guinea-pig  {^Journal 
of  Neurology  and  Psychology,  1904,  vol.  xiv)  show  that  meduUation  is  com- 
plete at  birth,  and  that  the  guinea-pig  never  equals  the  white  rat  in  adjust 
ntents  involving  intelligenc*. 


32  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

amoeba  at  the  beginning  of  the  animal  scale  and  the 
human  infant  at  the  top !  There  parent  and  offsprmg 
are  practically  one,  with  no  immaturity  and  no  need 
of  education.  And  between  the  two  He  all  varieties 
of  animal  life,  with  ever  increasing  complexity  of  struc- 
ture and  intelHgence  in  the  adult,  and  ever  lengthening 
infancy  and  childhood  in  the  offspring."  ^ 

6.  The  school,  then,  is  a  specialized  agency  of  formal 
education  which  aims  to  control  in  a  measure  the  expe- 
riences of  the  child  during  the  plastic  period  of  infancy. 
It  must  be  repeated,  however,  that  education  is  not  limited 
to  the  school.  Wherever  one  individual  learns  from 
another  how  to  better  his  Hfe,  how  to  meet  more  success- 
fully the  forces  that  oppose  him,  how  to  assimilate  race- 
experience  and  profit  by  it  —  there  an  educative  process 
is  going  on  whether  there  be  a  school  or  not.  And  more 
than  this:  wherever  one  individual  learns  from  his  own 
experiences  how  to  adapt  himself  more  adequately  to 
future  situations,  there  an  educative  process  is  going 
on,  whether  there  be  a  teacher  or  not.  The  education 
by  the  family  up  to  the  period  of  school  instruction, 
the  education  by  the  family  and  by  society  during  this 
period  and  afterward,  the  education  of  the  individual 
in  the  "school  of  experience"  —  none  of  these  factors 
can  be  neglected.  But  while  one  recognizes  this  truth, 
one  must  also  recognize  that  the  school  demands  the 
largest  share  of  attention  and  study,  not  because  it  influ- 

^  A.  F.  Chamberlain:   TAt  Child,  London,  1900,  p.  3. 


THE  FUNCTION   OF  THE   SCHOOL  33 

ences  the  child  more  than  any  of  the  other  forces,  —  home 
or  society  or  Ufe,  —  but  because  it  is  more  amenable 
to  control.  It  is  through  the  school  that  the  future 
of  the  race  can  be  influenced  with  the  greatest  certainty. 
The  factor  of  parental  education  is  quite  invariable; 
the  same  ends  are  sought  and  the  same  methods  employed 
generation  after  generation.  The  social  factor  and  that 
designated  by  "hfe"  are,  on  the  contrary,  ultra-vari- 
able, possessing  so  little  stability  that,  notwithstanding 
their  profound  influence,  their  results  can  never  be  pre- 
dicted with  certainty.  The  school  hes,  therefore,  be- 
tween these  two  extremes  as  the  one  factor  that  is  within 
our  control  in  an  appreciable  degree. 

That  a  thoroughgoing  policy  of  universal  education, 
carefully  devised  and  skillfully  administered,  can  actually 
determine  a  nation's  destiny  has  been  demonstrated 
again  and  again  in  the  course  of  the  world's  history. 
The  older  social  order  in  China,  which  remained  prac- 
tically unchanged  for  centuries,  found  its  most  char- 
acteristic expression  in  a  system  of  education  which 
aimed  to  reproduce  from  generation  to  generation  the 
same  habits,  customs,  knowledge,  and  ideals.  The 
work  of  the  Chinese  schools  and  schoolmasters,  crystal- 
hzed  as  it  was  in  memoriter  drills  of  the  most  formal 
kind,  effectually  closed  the  doors  of  progress.  The 
ancient  model  persisted  unchanged  in  spite  of  the  great 
transformations  in  all  phases  of  hiunan  life  that  were 
taking  place  in  the  outside  world. 


34  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

Japan,  on  the  other  hand,  was  so  situated  as  to  be 
much  more  quickly  and  easily  influenced  by  other  coun- 
tries. When  she  saw  that  her  future  depended  upon 
the  acceptance  of  western  standards,  she  dehberately 
set  about  the  organization  of  an  educational  system 
that  would  effect  the  desired  changes.  Compulsory 
school  attendance,  the  liberal  endowment  of  universities 
and  schools  of  technology,  the  employment  of  teachers 
brought  from  other  lands,  and  the  state  support  of 
native  students  in  foreign  countries  all  contributed  to 
the  end  sought.  Within  two  generations  Japan  has 
changed  from  an  oriental  to  an  occidental  nation,  and 
this  meant  that  the  Japanese  people  themselves  were 
changed  to  a  very  large  extent  in  their  ideals,  their 
customs,  and  their  ways  of  thinking. 

In  northern  and  western  Europe,  the  nineteenth 
century  witnessed  a  remarkable  development  of  formal 
education  and  an  overwhelming  demonstration  of  the 
influence  that  it  can  exert.  The  advances  that  the 
German  states  made  after  the  Napoleonic  wars  were  due 
largely  to  an  educational  awakening  and  to  the  example 
set  by  Prussia  in  organizing  a  system  of  "people's 
schools"  which  influenced  every  child  born  into  the 
land ;  while  the  material  development  of  the  German 
Empire,  following  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  was  due 
very  largely  to  development  on  a  large  scale  of  trade 
schools  and  industrial  schools  for  the  masses  of  the 
people,  together  with  the  growth  of  the  higher  technical 


THE   FUNCTION   OF  THE    SCHOOL  35 

schools  and  universities  for  those  who  were  to  be  leaders. 
Education  was  thus  fostered  sedulously  both  by  the 
imperial  government  and  by  the  state  governments  in 
a  way  that  was  designed  to  augment  the  material 
strength  of  the  empire  although  at  the  same  time  un- 
fortunately it  preserved  and  intensified  the  distinction 
between  the  masses  and  the  classes. 

While  England  and  France  were  slower  than  Ger- 
many both  to  develop  education  on  a  universal  basis 
and  to  establish  industrial  and  technical  schools,  they 
were  no  less  influenced  by  the  general  educational 
awakening  and  in  the  latter  half  of  the  century  both 
made  rapid  strides.  France,  particularly,  after  the 
War  of  1870-71,  gave  herself  devotedly  to  the  de- 
velopment of  national  schools,  an  important  achieve- 
ment of  which  was  the  firm  welding  together  of  the 
various  elements  in  her  population ;  and  England  since 
1870  has  made  the  education  of  all  her  children  a 
matter  of  national  concern.  Other  northern  countries, 
—  particularly  Denmark  and  Norway,  —  also  made  re- 
markable progress  during  this  period. 

Eastern  and  southeastern  Europe,  however,  were  but 
slightly  affected  by  this  movement.  Russia  had  her 
universities  and  her  secondary  schools,  but  the  great 
masses  of  her  people  were  left  unschooled  and  illiterate. 
The  Balkan  countries  remained  in  general  backward 
and  primitive. 

In  the  New  World,  educational  progress  during  this 


36     '  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

period  was  limited  largely  to  the  English-speaking 
peoples  in  the  United  States  and  Canada.  During  the 
colonial  period,  schools  for  all  classes  had  been  estab- 
lished in  New  England  and  in  some  of  the  Middle  col- 
onies, but  a  general  movement  for  universal  education 
did  not  come  until  after  the  Revolution,  and  even  then 
the  movement  was  limited  to  the  northern  states. 
But  in  this  country  and  in  Canada,  as  in  western  Europe, 
rapid  progress  marked  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  The  Spanish-American  countries,  on  the 
other  hand,  remained  generally  backward,  although 
noteworthy  advances  were  made  in  Argentina  and 
Chile. 

That,  under  modern  conditions,  a  nation's  strength 
and  destiny  depend  upon  its  schools,  admits  of  no  doubt. 
In  no  other  equally  effective  way  can  social  development 
be  controlled.  And  it  is  clear,  too,  that  the  tremendous 
force  which  universal  education  represents  can  be 
directed  toward  either  worthy  or  unworthy  ends.  There 
is  no  work  more  heavily  fraught  with  responsibility 
than  that  which  is  concerned  with  framing  the  programs 
and  policies  of  a  nation's  schools. 

7.  What  has  just  been  said  appears,  upon  the  surface, 
to  imply  a  large  preponderance  of  influence  to  "environ- 
ment" as  compared  with  "heredity."  If  the  destinies 
of  nations  can  be  determined  by  the  control  of  certain 
environmental  influences  through  the  systematic  or- 
ganization  of   universal   education,   what,   it   may   be 


THE   FUNCTION   OF   THE   SCHOOL  37 

asked,  is  left  to  the  native  endowment  of  the  individual 
or  the  race? 

It  is,  however,  only  within  limits  that  education  can 
work  these  marked  changes.  Individuals  vary  very 
widely  in  mental  capacities  just  as  they  vary  widely  in 
physical  traits,  and  the  mental  differences  that  we  notice 
most  quickly  among  individuals,  —  differences  in  quick- 
ness of  response,  in  ability  to  learn  and  to  remember,  in 
originality,  forcefulness,  and  initiative,  —  are  probably 
at  basis  hereditary  differences.  Whether,  indeed,  these 
basic  mental  traits  can  be  affected  in  any  marked  degree 
by  formal  training  is  still  an  open  question,  some  of  the 
answers  to  which  will  be  discussed  in  a  later  chapter.^ 
It  is  also  probable  that  there  are  some  races  whose 
general  level  or  average  of  mental  capacity  is  lower 
than  that  of  other  races.  It  is  held  to-day,  however, 
that  the  variations  in  average  mental  ability  among 
the  races  are  not  nearly  so  wide  as  are  the  variations 
among  the  individuals  of  any  one  race.  Formal  edu- 
cation cannot  make  a  genius  out  of  a  moron,  nor  can  a 
universal  system  of  formal  education  lift  a  race  of  low 
average  mentality  to  the  level  of  a  more  highly  en- 
dowed race.  But  given  two  nations  of  approximately 
equal  average  endowment  and  the  provision  of  educa- 
tion to  one  and  the  denial  of  education  to  the  other  will 
make  differences  so  striking  that  one  is  quite  justified 
in  saying  that  a  nation's  destiny  lies  in  its  schools. 

»Cf.  Ch-xiii. 


38  THE   EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

The  school,  as  we  have  said,  aims  to  control  the  ex- 
periences of  the  child  during  the  plastic  period  of  his 
growth.  It  controls  these  experiences  by  controlling 
the  environment  of  the  child.  It  is  at  basis  an  institu- 
tion for  providing  suitable  enArironments,  for  regulating 
environments,  for  turning  environmental  forces  to 
definite  and  consciously  determined  ends. 

Each  subject  of  the  school  curriculum  represents  a  certain 
speciiic  attitude  toward  the  world  about  us  —  represents  a 
certain  specific  phase  of  experience  with  the  environment. 
From  the  standpoint  of  mathematical  science,  the  arithmetic 
of  the  schools  comprehends  the  principles  of  number;  from 
the  standpoint  of  education,  arithmetic  is  one  expression  of  our 
attitude  toward  our  surroimdings.  Nvmiber  is  one  of  the  ways 
in  which  we  interpret  the  environment,  one  of  the  methods 
by  means  of  which  we  subdue  it  and  turn  its  forces  to  our  own 
ends. 

Geography  is  a  study  of  the  environment  in  the  concrete; 
it  treats  of  the  earth  as  the  home  of  man.  And  the  natural 
sciences,  from  this  point  of  view,  are  but  abstractions  from  the 
comprehensive  field  that  geography  covers,  —  botany  dealing 
with  the  world  of  plants,  zoology  with  the  world  of  animals, 
geology  with  the  world  of  inorganic  matter,  meteorology  with 
the  world  of  air,  and  so  on.  Physics  represents  still  another 
phase  of  our  surroimdings,  —  our  experience  with  the  forces 
that  operate  upon  material  bodies.  And  chemistry  and  as- 
tronomy represent  stUl  other  types  of  experiences  that  result 
from  our  contact  with  the  external  world. 

The  world  of  man  is  just  as  real  and  tangible  as  the  world 
of  matter,  and  the  human  sciences  represent  our  experiences 
with  the  social  environment,  jxist  as  the  natural  sciences  repre- 
sent our  experiences  with  the  physical  environmeat.    History 


THE   FUNCTION   OF   THE    SCHOOL  39 

relates  the  experience  of  different  races  amid  diverse  sur- 
roundings. Sociology  is  experience  with  the  social  environment, 
condensed  into  principles  and  organized  into  a  system. 

Throughout  the  curriculum  of  the  school,  then,  each 
of  the  various  branches  of  knowledge  really  represents 
a  certain  type  of  experience  with  a  limited  phase  of  the 
world  about  us  or  within  us.  It  is  one  duty  of  the 
school  to  impart  this  experience  to  the  child.  "  It  should 
not  be  forgotten,"  says  Professor  Howerth,^  "...  that 
one  function,  if  not  the  function,  of  our  school  system, 
is  to  distribute  amongst  the  members  of  society  the  most 
important  knowledge  that  has  already  been  collected." 

But  the  school  has  another  function.  Education  means 
not  only  the  assimilation  of  race-experience  but  the  acqui- 
sition of  individual  experience  as  well.  The  school  must 
provide  for  the  child  certain  environments,  reaction  to 
which  will  give  him  experiences  that  will  be  service- 
able to  him  in  later  life. 

How  these  two  functions  may  work  together  harmoni- 
ously will  be  the  theme  of  a  later  section.  One  further 
problem  still  remains  for  consideration  in  connection 
with  the  present  discussion.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
school  is  an  institution  for  turning  environmental 
forces  to  a  definite  and  conscious  end.  What  this  end 
is  and  what  it  should  be  are  questions  that  demand 
a  treatment  far  more  comprehensive  than  the  following 
chapter  can  attempt. 

1 1.  W.  Howcrth,  in  Educational  Review,  1902,  vol.  xxiv,  p.  161. 


CHAPTER  III 
The  Ethical  End  of  Education 

1.  The  question  now  presents  itself:  Upon  what  basis 
shall  the  school,  or  any  other  agency  of  formal  education, 
select  the  experiences  that  are  to  function  in  modifying 
adjustment?  To  what  end  shall  adjustment  be  modi- 
fied ?  Shall  the  school  attempt  so  to  organize  the  reac- 
tions of  the  individual  that  he  may  be  able  to  earn  a 
respectable  livelihood?  If  so,  it  must  first  determine 
what  experiences  will  best  subserve  this  end.  Or  will 
iis  ultimate  aim  be  to  develop  "moral  character,"  as 
the  followers  of  Herbart  maintain?  In  this  case,  it  is 
possible  that  a  different  set  of  experiences  must  be 
chosen.  And  so  one  might  go  on  through  the  entire 
list  of  educational  aims. 

2.  It  seems  tolerably  clear,  however,  that  the  laws 
that  underlie  the  educative  process  are  largely  in- 
dependent of  the  ultimate  end  of  education.  The 
particular  problem  with  which  this  book  is  concerned 
is  how  experiences  shall  be  impressed  in  order  that 
they  may  function  effectively  in  modifying  adjustment. 
Whatever  the  ultimate  end  of  education  may  be,  the 
acquisition,    the    retention,    the    organization,  and    the 

40 


THE  ETHICAL  END  OF  EDUCATION        4! 

application  of  experiences  are  subject  to  certain  uni- 
form laws.  The  ultimate  end  may  vary  and  has  varied 
from  race  to  race  and  from  generation  to  generation;  but 
the  fundamental  processes  are  based  upon  the  relatively 
constant  factors  of  mental  and  physical  activity  and 
growth.  The  ultimate  end  of  education  in  the  public 
school,  for  example,  will  doubtless  be  vastly  dififerent 
from  the  aim  of  Fagin  the  Jew  in  his  training  of  Oliver 
Twist.  Yet  the  methods  employed  in  both  cases  may  be 
based  upon  identical  principles.  In  either  case  the  child 
is  subjected  to  certain  experiences  that  are  planned  to 
modify  his  future  adjustment;  in  neither  case  is  this 
adjustment  left  to  the  blind  control  of  inherited  impulse. 
3.  At  the  risk  of  multiplying  terms  needlessly,  it  may 
be  profitable  to  discriminate  between  aims  of  education 
in  this  way:  the  aim  or  purpose  or  function  that  was 
discussed  in  Chapter  I  may  be  tenned  empirical^  while 
the  ultimate  or  final  aim  may  be  termed  ethical.  It  is 
the  empirical  aim  of  education  to  fix  experiences  that 
shall  modify  adjustment.  It  is  the  ethical  aim  to  fix 
those  experiences  that  shall  modify  adjustment  with 
reference  to  a  certain  definite  end;  those  experiences 
that  will  make  the  individual  a  moral  agent,  or  enable 
him  to  earn  his  own  livelihood,  or,  perhaps,  enable  him 
to  steal  successfully.  Dynamite  explodes  in  the  same 
way,  —  according  to  the  same  laws,  —  whether  it  is 
used  as  a  harmless  blast  in  a  mine  or  to  deal  death  and 
destruction  at  the  will  of  an  anarchist.     Similarly,  the 


42  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

principles  of  educational  method  work  in  the  same  way 
whether  they  are  to  produce  a  theologian  or  a  thief. 

The  advantage  of  this  distinction  between  empirical  and 
ethical  aims  of  education  will  be  apparent  to  all  who  have  been 
distressed  by  the  cry  of  certain  critics  to  the  effect  that  educa- 
tion can  never  become  a  science,  because,  forsooth,  educa- 
tional ideals  are  in  continual  flux,  and  the  truth  of  to-day  may 
be  the  falsehood  of  to-morrow.^  As  well  say  that  physics  can 
never  become  a  science  because  there  is  nothing  in  the  law  of 
gravitation  that  will  indicate  with  certainty  whether  a  criminal 
or  an  innocent  man  is  to  be  hung.  A  great  many  problems  of 
educational  practice  can  be  solved  only  by  recognizing  a  defi- 
nite end  of  education.  These  problems  are  concerned  mainly 
with  the  course  of  study,  —  the  "  educational  values  "  of  dif- 
ferent items  of  the  curriculum.  Will  science  develop  bread- 
winning  capacity  better  than  history?  Will  history  develop 
moral  character  more  efTfectually  than  science  ?  Here  the  ulti- 
mate aim  is  obviously  important.  But  these  questions  once 
settled,  there  still  remain  the  detailed  problems  of  method. 
Granted  that  science  represents  the  experience  that  will  best 
subserve  our  ultimate  purpose,  how  shall  the  individual  be  sub- 
jected to  this  experience?  How  shall  we  insure  that  the  knowl- 
edge will  be  assimilated  and  retained  and  applied?  This  is 
the  practical  problem  of  method,  and  the  problem  that  the 
great  rank  and  file  of  teachers  must  solve.  They  have  little 
to  do  with  the  determination  of  educational  values  or  with  the 
structure  of  the  course  of  study. 

4.  True  as  this  is,  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  the 
average   teacher  need   take  no   account  of  the   ethical 

1  Cf.  Professor  O'Shea's  rejoinder  to  Dilthey's  assertion  that  education 
can  never  be  admitted  as  a  science  because  its  generalizations  do  not  have 
universal  validity.  M.  V.  O'Shea:  Education  as  Adjustment,  New  York| 
1903.  pp.  "-13. 


THE   ETHICAL    END    OF   EDUCATION  43 

aim  of  education.  While  the  principles  of  method  may 
be  independent  of  aim,  just  what  method  is  to  be  em- 
ployed by  the  teacher  in  a  given  instance  may  depend 
entirely  upon  the  purpose  that  he  seeks  to  accomplish. 
While  dynamite  may  either  blast  a  rock  or  kill  a  king, 
the  miner  or  the  anarchist  may  decide  that,  after  all, 
gunpowder  is  better  suited  to  his  purpose.  And  while 
the  direct  method  may  enable  the  child  to  assimilate  a 
bit  of  knowledge,  the  teacher  may  conclude  that,  for  his 
purpose,  the  indirect  method  will  answer  as  well  or 
better.  In  short,  while  it  would  be  possible  to  con- 
struct a  science  of  educational  method  in  which  the 
ultimate  aim  of  education  should  be  entirely  neglected, 
the  value  of  such  a  structure  would  certainly  not  be 
impaired  and  might,  for  some  purposes,  be  greatly 
enhanced  if  a  definite  aim  were  assumed.  The  prin- 
ciples that  we  shall  present  in  the  following  chapters 
are,  in  the  main,  general  principles  valid  in  any  particu- 
lar case;  but  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  no  one  will  care 
to  apply  them  to  the  development  of  thieves  and  mur- 
derers; and  inasmuch  as  a  definite  assumption  of  an 
ethical  or  ultimate  aim  may  serve  to  render  our  discus- 
sions more  vital  and  less  abstract,  it  may  not  be  amiss 
to  state  this  assumption  at  the  outset;  remembering,  of 
course,  that,  even  if  it  is  not  accepted  by  all  as  the  true 
end  of  education,  the  larger  principles  which  it  is  used 
to  illustrate  will  not  suffer  thereby. 

5.  The  ultimate  aims  that  have  been  proposed  for 


i|4  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

education  are  as  numerous  as  educational  theorists, 
consequently  their  name  is  legion.  It  would  require  a 
volume  of  no  small  dimensions  to  discuss  in  a  critical 
manner  even  the  more  important.  We  shall  therefore 
limit  ourselves  to  those  that  have  had  the  greatest  in- 
fluence in  shaping  contemporary  educational  policy. 
These  will  not  necessarily  be  the  most  profound,  but 
rather  those  that  have  appealed  most  effectively  to  the 
popular  mind. 

(a)  The  '^ Bread-and-Butter"  Aim.  That  education 
(in  the  popular  sense  of  the  term)  may  enable  an  indi- 
vidual to  earn  a  livelihood  is  the  motive  that  impels 
perhaps  the  great  majority  of  parents  to  send  their  chil- 
dren to  school.  It  may  be  well  to  qualify  this  assertion 
by  adding,  "The  great  majority  of  parents  who  think 
about  the  matter  at  all;"  for  here  as  elsewhere  the  pow- 
erful factor  of  social  imitation  must  be  taken  into 
account:  the  child  is  sent  to  school  because  the  school 
is  there,  and  because  other  parents  send  their  children 
to  school.  But  of  those  who  have  a  dehberate  purpose 
in  mind  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  impelling  motive 
of  the  majority  can  be  reduced  to  the  "bread-and-but- 
ter" type. 

It  is  the  habit  among  educators  to  lament  the  preva- 
lence of  this  aim  —  to  lament  especially  the  sordid  and 
purely  individual  spirit  which  it  commonly  reveals. 
Yet  it  may  be  said  in  its  favor  that  the  motive  is  not 
merely  to  enable  the  child  to  obtain  a  livelihood,  but 


TMK    STHICAL    SND   OF    EDUCATION  45 

to  obtain  a  better  livelihood  than  would  otherwise  be 
possible,  —  a  better  livelihood,  it  may  be,  than  his  par- 
ents have  been  capable  of  procuring.  This  signifies  a 
desire  for  improvement,  for  advancement,  and  as  such 
it  is  surely  commendable  from  any  standpoint.  That 
this  improvement  should  be  measured  in  dollars  and 
cents  is  due  to  the  universal  significance  of  the  monetary 
standard  of  value.  In  truth,  improvement  in  the  con- 
ditions of  life  can  undoubtedly  be  more  accurately  and 
definitely  measured  by  this  standard  than  by  any  other. 
That  the  motive  is  individual  is  not  wholly  to  be  dep- 
recated; that  is  to  say,  such  an  aim,  even  though  indi- 
vidual, is  not  necessarily  unsocial;  for,  within  certain 
limits,  individual  advancement  means  social  advance- 
ment. 

The  chief  virtue  of  the  bread-and-butter  aim  is  its 
definiteness.  There  is  nothing  vague  or  intangible 
about  the  criterion  that  it  sets  up.  But,  notwithstand- 
ing this  advantage,  it  involves  a  grave  source  of  danger 
in  the  mental  attitude  that  it  encourages  —  a  danger 
that  lies,  not  in  its  objective  results,  but  in  its  subjec- 
tive tendencies.  In  other  words,  it  breeds  a  narrowing 
spirit  and  thus  tends,  in  a  measure,  to  defeat  its  own 
ends.  With  its  rigid  adherence  to  processes  that  have 
been  tried  and  tested  by  its  own  standards,  with  its  un- 
wiUingness  t®  accept  a  process  the  practical  value  of 
which  is  not  evident  upon  the  surface,  it  may  miss  many 
a  golden  opportunity  to  further  the  very  purpose  which 


46  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

it  sets  out  to  accomplish.  Tiie  parent  who  objects  to  a 
*' liberal"  education  because  he  thinks  it  impractical 
may  see  his  son  outstripped  in  the  race  of  life  by  men 
who  obtained  the  Uberal  training  with  little  or  no  thought 
as  to  its  effect  upon  their  earning  capacity.  The  "bread- 
and-butter"  philosophy  everywhere  pays  the  price  of 
short-sightedness  for  the  virtue  of  practical  utility.  In 
the  economy  of  nature  one  cannot  be  both  broad  and 
narrow  at  the  same  time. 

6.  (b)  The  Knowledge  Aim.  This  may  be  looked  upon 
as  the  practical  antithesis  of  the  aim  just  discussed. 
Each  is  the  expression  of  a  popular  philosophy:  the 
bread-and-butter  aim  representing  the  practical,  work-a- 
day  view  of  life,  the  knowledge  aim  reflecting  a  view 
of  life  that  would  minimize  its  material  expressions  and 
emphasize  the  ideal;  the  one  representing  the  life  of 
struggle,  the  other  representing  the  life  of  leisure. 

But  the  knowledge  aim  and  the  bread-and-butter  aim, 
contradictory  as  they  may  seem  in  theory,  may  not  work 
inharmoniously  in  practice.  If  we  look  upon  knowl- 
edge as  that  part  of  race- experience  that  has  been  pre- 
served, it  would  seem  reasonable  to  beheve  that  this 
preservation  has  been,  in  large  measure,  determined  by 
practical  standards.  That  is,  the  body  of  knowledge  is 
made  up  of  facts  and  laws  and  principles  that  are,  or 
have  been,  in  one  way  or  another,  valuable  from  the 
standpoint  of  utihty.  From  the  operation  of  natural 
law  there  is  no  ultimate  escape,  and  the  survival  of  the 


THE   ETHICAL   END    OF   EDUCATION  47 

useful  with  the  consequent  elimination  of  the  useless 
works  in  the  long  run  as  relentlessly  in  the  field  of  mind 
as  it  does  in  the  field  of  matter.  It  is  assumed,  of 
course,  that  those  who  support  the  knowledge  aim  con- 
ceive of  knowledge  in  this  way.  If,  however,  the  knowl- 
edge aim  measures  the  value  of  experience  merely  by 
conventional  standards,  the  case  is  entirely  different. 
We  shall  revert  to  this  point  under  the  discussion  of  the 
"culture  aim." 

With  the  knowledge  aim  as  thus  interpreted,  the  dan- 
ger hes,  as  in  the  bread-and-butter  aim,  not  in  the  nature 
of  the  objective  results,  but  in  the  nature  of  the  subjec- 
tive tendencies.  The  hoarding  of  facts  for  their  own 
sake  is  somewhat  akin  to  the  hoarding  of  gold.  Both 
tend  to  develop  the  mental  attitude  of  the  "miser." 
In  either  case  the  objective  results  may  be  the  same 
as  they  would  be  were  the  individual  abstemious  and 
industrious  from  other  and  broader  motives;  but  from 
these  results  must  be  deducted  the  negative  factors  that 
are  involved  in  an  unsocial  and  abstract  point  of  view; 
so  that,  in  the  ultimate  analysis,  the  net  result  may  be 
vastly  different.  Or,  to  put  it  in  another  way:  to  assimi- 
late experiences  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  experiences 
does  not  prevent  the  individual  from  utiHzing  them  after- 
ward; but  the  fact  that  he  does  not,  in  the  first  place, 
look  upon  the  experiences  as  something  primarily  to 
be  used,  may  interfere  with  their  maximal  efficiency 
in  appUcation. 


48  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

7.  (c)  The  Culture  Aim.  Closely  connected  with  the 
knowledge  aim  is  that  which  proposes  "general  culture" 
as  the  end  of  education.  In  the  latter  case,  however, 
knowledge  is  to  be  acquired,  not  for  its  own  sake,  but 
because  tradition  has  developed  certain  standards  of  cul- 
ture which  imply  the  acquisition  of  certain  items  of 
knowledge^  —  the  assimilation  of  certain  conventional 
experiences.  It  is  not  necessary  that  these  should  have 
a  definite  application  to  the  problems  of  life  except  thai 
they  give  the  individual  prestige  among  his  fellows.  To 
be  able  to  read  Latin  was  once  the  sine  qua  non  of  the 
student.  Before  the  tongues  of  Europe  had  become 
organized  and  efl&cient  means  of  preserving  and  trans- 
mitting experience,  one  who  desired  acquaintance  with 
the  wisdom  accumulated  by  past  generations  must  have 
had  recourse  to  the  Latin  language.  And  so  it  came 
about  that  Latin  formed  the  central  feature  of  formal 
education  at  a  time  when  the  schools  of  modern  Europe 
first  began  to  take  definite  shape. 

In  the  course  of  organic  evolution,  structures  persist 
long  after  they  have  outHved  their  usefulness.  In  the 
brain,  the  epiphysis  represents  the  last  vestiges  of  a 
once-functioning  eye.  In  the  muscular  system,  the 
recti  of  the  ears  once  had  a  definite  and  useful  purpose. 
In  the  digestive  tract,  the  vermiform  appendix  is  an 
atrophied  and  now  useless  and  cumbrous  remnant  of 
an  organ  that  still  functions  in  some  of  the  lower  forms. 
And  so  it  is  with  human  customs :  they  persist  long  after 


THS   ETHICAL    SND   OF   EDUCATION  49 

their  original  function  has  been  outgrown.  Many  of 
the  so-called  culture  studies  have  little  or  no  practical 
utility  under  present  conditions.  They  represent,  in 
other  words,  experiences  which  the  individual  has  very 
little  occasion  to  apply  to  existing  problems  of  life.  Yet 
they  remain  a  part  of  the  curriculum  of  the  schools,  and 
in  many  cases  they  dominate  the  curriculum.  They 
are  condoned  and  justified  in  various  ways  —  some 
of  the  attempts  to  justifiy  their  continuance  being  so 
labored  and  involved  as  almost  to  appear  ridiculous. 
The  real  reason  for  their  persistence,  however,  is  that 
they  represent,  especially  in  ultra-conservative  countries 
like  England,  "the  things  that  a  gentleman  must  know," 
which  is  only  another  way  of  saying  that  they  give 
a  man  the  earmarks  of  gentility,  —  certain  habits  of 
thought,  certain  tricks  of  speech,  that  serve  to  diflferen- 
tiate  him  from  the  ungentle. 

Happily  the  elementary  school  has  developed  with 
little  reference  to  this  standard,  as,  obviously,  a  system 
of  education  supported  from  the  beginning  by  the  people 
at  large  must  have  developed.  So  much  cannot  be 
said,  however,  of  the  public  high  and  secondary  schools. 
That  such  institutions  are  stiU  largely  dominated  by 
this  conventional  factor  and  are,  in  this  regard,  totally 
subservient  to  the  colleges  that  receive  but  the  merest 
fraction  of  their  graduates,  is  a  commentary  upon  the 
snobbish  tendencies  which  a  democracy  may  inherit 
from  older  forms  of  goremment. 


5©  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

There  is  a  more  or  less  prevalent  theory  to  the  effect  thai 
the  school  is  a  powerful  agent  in  molding  public  opinion.  That 
it  can  become  a  powerful  agent,  the  facts  brought  out  in  the  last 
chapter  seem  to  prove.  But  that  the  school  generally  follows 
rather  than  leads  is  a  fact  which  a  survey  of  conditions,  espe- 
cially in  Anglo-Saxon  countries,  cannot  fail  to  impress.  Where 
the  school  has  become  a  force,  it  has  been  largely  in  virtue  of 
arbitrary  rulings,  as  in  the  case  of  Germany  or  Japan.  In  demo- 
cratic countries  its  policy  is  usually  determined  by  external  fac- 
tors, —  prejudice  and  custom  in  England,  prejudice  tempered 
by  economic  conditions  in  the  United  States, 

The  conservatism  of  formal  education  is  inherent  in  its  very 
nature.  It  is  firmly  rooted  in  the  past,  because  race-experience, 
or  knowledge,  with  which  it  is  so  largely  concerned,  is  a  product 
of  the  past.  At  the  present  time  the  importance  that  attaches 
to  natural  science  —  in  itself  essentially  modern  —  may  lead 
us  to  underrate  this  tendency ;  but  generations  hence,  after  the 
stage  of  crystaUization  has  set  in,  its  full  effects  will  again  be 
plainly  apparent. 

8.  (d)  The  Harmonious  Development  of  All  the  Powers 
and  Faculties  of  Man.  In  spite  of  its  apparent  com- 
prehensiveness, the  insuflSciency  of  this  aim  is  evident 
at  a  glance.  The  word  "harmonious"  is  the  disturbing 
factor.  If  "complete"  or  "maximal"  development  were 
desired,  the  situation  would  be  materially  simplified. 
But  no  one  could,  in  common  sense,  demand  the  com- 
plete or  maximal  development  of  all  the  capacities  of 
the  individual,  although  not  a  few  have,  in  theory,  sup- 
posed such  a  miracle  possible.  The  man  who  can  do 
all  things  equally  well;  the  man  who  is  master  of  all 
arts,  and  at  the  same  time  an  authority  in  all  fields  of 


THE  ETHICAL  END  OF  EDUCATION        5 1 

knowledge;  the  man  who  works  equally  well  with  head 
and  hand,  with  pen  and  pencil,  with  brush  and  chisel; 
the  man  who  is  poet  and  plowman,  orator  and  artisan, 
financier  and  philosopher,  all  in  the  same  breath  —  this 
man  exists  only  in  the  pages  of  fiction  or  in  the  fanta- 
sies of  the  dreamer.  It  may  be  possible  to  develop  all  the 
faculties  equally,  but  not  maximally.  Here  the  relentless' 
law  of  compensation  interposes  an  emphatic  veto. 

But    suppose    "harmoniously"    to    mean    "equally" 

—  what,  then,  shall  we  say  of  this  aim  ?  Common  sense 
suppHes  the  answer.  You  may  find  the  legitimate  prod- 
uct of  such  a  view  of  education  in  every  crossroads 
village.  He  is  known  as  the  jack-of-all-trades,  and  the 
veriest  schoolboy  will  tell  you  that  he  is  good  at  none. 
In  art  and  literature,  he  is  the  dilettante;  in  business, 
he  is  the  "general  utiUty  man";  in  professional  life, 
he  is   the  pettifogger.     You   will   find   him   everywhere 

—  the  man  who  can  turn  his  hand  to  anything,  and  do 
nothing  well.  Society  needs  some  of  these  men,  but 
society  does  not  need  a  system  of  education  that  is  de- 
signed to  turn  them  out  in  quantity.  The  office  will  never 
be  vacant,  whatever  system  of  education  prevails. 

The  harmonious  development  aim  works  some  very  curious 
results  when  put  into  practice.  Here  is  a  capacity,  it  says ; 
Nature  has  provided  it,  hence  it  is  our  duty  to  develop  it.  The 
fallacy  of  this  syllogism  is  that  of  Jion  sequitur.  Because  the 
capacity  is  there  is  not  a  sufficient  reason  for  its  development. 
Every  individual  has  a  number  of  muscles  and  sets  of  muscles 
which  may  be  developed.    Acting  upon  this  argument,  every 


52  THE   EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

bit  of  muscular  tissue  has  its  duty  to  perform,  and  should  not 
be  allowed  to  atrophy  through  disuse.  This  point  of  view 
neglects  to  take  account  of  a  very  simple  fact,  —  the  fact, 
namely,  that  conditions  of  life  are  vastly  different  to-day  from 
what  they  were  when  our  bodies  took  their  present  form.  Just 
as  there  are  in  mind  certain  tendencies  that  had  a  vital  con- 
nection with  primitive  conditions  of  survival,  —  the  tendency 
to  do  bodily  harm  to  our  enemies,  to  appropriate  objects  that 
give  us  satisfaction,  regardless  of  the  rights  of  others,  —  and 
just  as  in  civilized  life  we  not  only  let  these  tendencies  atrophy, 
but  help  on  the  process  as  strenuously  as  possible ;  so  there  are 
in  the  muscular  system  certain  sets  of  fibers  that  had  a  signifi- 
cance at  one  time,  but  the  original  function  of  which  has  long 
since  disappeared.  And  if  one  is  pressed  for  an  example,  it  is 
easy  to  cite  the  rudimentary  muscles  that  once  wagged  the  ears 
of  our  remote  ancestors.  It  were  scarcely  necessary  to  empha- 
size this  point  were  not  the  contemporary  philosophy  of  physi- 
cal education  so  utterly  naive. 

The  harmonious  development  aim  has  taken  another  erratic 
turn  in  giving  undue  prominence  to  "  sense  training,"  espe- 
cially as  applied  to  the  lower  senses,  which  are  not  at  all  acute 
in  man.  The  rudiments,  however,  exist ;  ergo,  they  should  be 
developed.  Now  the  sense  of  smell  has  atrophied  in  man  for 
a  very  good  reason,  —  a  fact  for  which  one  who  lives  under 
modern  conditions  should,  in  all  conscience,  be  duly  grateful. 
Olfactory  acuteness  was  undoubtedly  highly  important  at  one 
period  of  race-development.  Its  function  has,  however,  been 
almost  entirely  replaced  by  other  factors, — by  acuteness  of 
vision  and  hearing  in  some  measure,  but  more  than  this  by  the 
fact  that  intellectual  acuteness  is  far  more  efficient  than  mere 
sensory  acuteness.  Intellectual  acuteness,  however,  involves 
concentrated  and  sustained  attention.  Anything  that  interferes 
with  such  attention  will  interfere  with  intellectual  efficiency. 
Like  all  the  lower  sensations,  the  sensations  of  smell  have  very 
marked  affective  qualities ;  they  are  either  very  pleasant  or  very 


THE   ETHICAL    END    OF   EDUCATION  53 

unpleasant ;  hence,  they  distract  attention,  —  or,  to  speak  more 
accurately,  they  compel  attention  to  themselves.  In  the  psy- 
chological laboratories,  indeed,  odors  are  looked  upon  as  the 
very  best  distracting  stimuli.  It  can  be  easily  seen  that,  as 
sustained  attention  became  more  and  more  important  in  the 
struggle  for  existence,  those  senses  that  furnished  distracting 
stimuli  would  be  somewhat  at  a  discount.  Consequently  the 
forms  that  possessed  such  senses  would  tend  to  be  eliminated, 
and  natural  selection  would  gradually  work  toward  a  general 
atrophy  of  the  lower  senses,  provided  that  they  did  not  con- 
tribute definitely  to  the  survival  of  the  animal.  Thus  organic 
sensation,  while  even  more  highly  colored  with  affection  than 
the  sense  of  smell,  persisted  because  its  function  could  not  be 
taken  up  by  anything  else.  Smell,  however,  was  not  in  this 
class.  Its  functions  could  easily  be  taken  over  by  intelli- 
gence, and  consequently  its  utility  was  practically  at  an  end. 
The  rudiments  still  persist,  and  can  be  developed,  although  in 
no  degree  approaching  their  former  acuteness.  It  is  plain, 
however,  that  to  spend  time  and  energy  in  such  development  is 
simply  to  replace,  as  far  as  possible,  a  capacity  that  nature 
has  done  her  best  to  eliminate. 

We  must  also  refer  at  this  point  to  another  vagary  of  the 
harmonious  development  enthusiast,  —  that,  namely,  which 
has  reference  to  developing  the  "  powers  of  observation,"  — 
meaning,  as  nearly  as  one  can  make  out,  the  capacity  to  take 
notice  of  little  things,  and  especially  of  external  objects  of 
which  we  obtain  knowledge  through  the  sense  of  sight.  With- 
out raising  the  question  whether  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
"  general  power  of  observation,"  we  may  admit  that  the 
capacity  to  note  minutiae  in  the  visual  environment  may  be 
improved  through  training.  But  even  then,  as  we  shall  see 
later,  this  would  probably  be  limited  to  specific  features  of  the 
environment.  The  botanist  would  take  note  of  minute  de- 
tails in  plants,  the  geologist  would  note  differences  in  earth 
sculpture  and  rock  formation,  the  artist  variations  in  color,  etc 


54  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

Each  of  these  capacities  would  doubtless  be  valuable  to  the 
person  in  question,  and  he  would  develop  his  special  capacity 
in  the  course  of  his  special  training.  For  the  average  man, 
however,  the  habit  of  taking  note  of  every  Httle  detail  of  his 
environment,  even  if  it  could  be  developed,  would  doubtless 
prove  more  of  a  curse  than  a  blessing.  Through  long  ages  of 
selection,  man  has  gradually  acquired  the  capacity  to  concen- 
trate —  to  neglect  irrelevant  stimuli  and  to  sustain  his  atten- 
tion over  a  consecutive  line  of  thought.  When  Nature  has 
done  her  best  to  eliminate  the  tendencies  to  distraction,  why 
should  we  go  out  of  our  way  to  multiply  them  ?  And  here, 
again,  one  might  certainly  accuse  us  of  setting  up  a  man  of 
straw,  were  not  contemporary  educational  theory  so  distress- 
ingly short-sighted. 

These  cases  may  serve  to  illustrate  how  the  harmonious 
development  aim  may  work  out  in  practice.  That  they  are 
extreme  cases  is  undoubtedly  true,  and  yet  they  typify  the 
mental  myopia  that  characterizes  so  much  of  our  educa- 
tional philosophy.  We  seize  upon  high-sounding  phrases  with- 
out stopping  to  inquire.  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  And,  if  the 
matter  ended  here,  the  conditions  would  not  be  so  discourag- 
ing. But  the  matter  does  not  end  here.  For  not  only  do  we 
theorize  blindly,  but  we  apply  our  theories  ruthlessly  to  our 
practice,  tearing  away  the  foundations  that  have  stood  the 
test  of  time,  and  replacing  them  with  flimsy  framework  fash- 
ioned from  unseasoned  timbers.  And  when,  through  the 
operation  of  forces  that  we  might  have  foreseen  and  calcu- 
lated, our  timbers  shrink  and  warp  and  rot,  we  tear  them  out 
—  only  to  replace  them  with  others  of  their  kind. 

The  harmonious  development  aim,  as  proposed  in 
different  forms  by  various  educators,  is  thus  seen  to  be 
deficient  in  two  essentials:  definiteness  and  perspective. 
The  term  "harmonious"  it  strictly  relative;    upon  its 


THE   ETHICAL   END   OF   EDUCATION  5$ 

further  defitiition  one's  judgment  of  the  aim  must  surely 
depend.  It  is  not  ultimate;  the  question,  "Harmo- 
nious with  what?"  is  still  left  open.  We  must  have 
a  still  more  remote  criterion  for  the  selection  of  expe- 
riences which  are  to  modify  adjustment.  There  must 
be  a  broader  principle  upon  which  our  efforts  are  to  be 
"harmonized." 

9.  (e)  The  Development  of  Moral  Character.  This 
aim  of  education  stands  upon  a  different  basis  from 
that  just  considered.  It  is  certainly  more  definite  to 
speak  of  the  development  of  moral  character  than  to 
speak  of  the  harmonious  development  of  an  individual's 
capacities.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  possible  ultimate 
principle:  if  the  capacities  of  the  individual  are  to  be 
developed  in  harmony  with  a  recognized  standard  of 
morality,  then  we  at  least  have  something  tangible  upon 
which  to  build.  Having  this  standard  definitely  in  mind, 
we  can  select  the  experiences  that  will  most  effectively 
accomplish  our  purpose.  The  difficulty  lies  in  the 
fact  that  not  all  men  agree  as  to  what  constitutes  moral- 
ity. Morality  is  a  name;  a  definite  meaning  must 
be  attached  to  the  word  before  we  can  accept  it  as  an 
ultimate  principle. 

Of  those  whose  names  are  prominent  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  education,  Aristotle  and  Herbart  have,  perhaps, 
most  consistently  argued  for  moral  development  as  the 
end  of  education.    Aristotle  ^  finds  in  man  two  tenden- 

*  Aristotle :  Nicomachean  Ethics,  ii,  5  S. 


56  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

cies:  the  one  passionate  and  brutal,  the  other  Intel 
lectual  and  human.  The  latter,  he  maintains,  is  the 
basis  of  morality  and  to  develop  it  is  the  work  of  edu- 
cation. Thus  morality,  gained  in  part  through  educa- 
tion, is  the  conquest  of  brute  passions,  animal  impulses, 
by  what  we  may  designate  as  intelUgence.  In  the  natural 
man,  pleasures  of  the  senses  are  the  motives  for  conduct ; 
in  the  moral  man,  pleasures  of  the  intellect.  The  moral 
life  becomes,  then,  a  "golden  mean"  in  which  the  mate- 
rial is  governed  by,  but  not  sacrificed  to,  the  ideal. 

Herbart  ^  looks  upon  education  and  morahty  in  a  similar 
light.  "The  true  and  whole  work  of  education,"  he 
says,  "may  be  summed  up  in  the  concept  —  morahty." 
The  most  important  characteristic  of  Herbart's  concep- 
tion of  morality  is  the  "good  will."  This  he  explains  in 
the  following  words:  "The  good  will  is  the  steady  reso- 
lution of  a  man  to  consider  himself  as  an  individual 
under  the  law  which  is  universally  binding.  ...  If 
we  think  of  the  power,  and  resistance  as  well,  with  which 
a  human  being  maintains  this  good  will  erect  in  himself 
against  those  movements  of  the  emotions  and  desires 
working  in  opposition  to  it,  then  morality  .  .  .  becomes 
to  us  the  virtue,  power,  action,  and  efficacy  of  the  will 
so  determined."  Or,  to  put  this  clumsy  and  obscure 
proposition  in  another  way,  morahty  consists  in  the 
dominance  of  the  lower  and  more  primitive  impulses 

^  J.  F.  Herbart :  Esthetic  Revelation  of  the  Worlds  in  Science  of  Educa 
Hon,  trans.  Felkin,  Boston,  1893,  ?•  57* 


THE   ETHICAL   END    OF   EDUCATION  57 

(*  movements  of  the  emotions  and  desires")  by  higher 
ideas;  a  point  of  view,  it  will  be  seen,  quite  similar  to 
that  of  Aristotle. 

This  bold  statement  of  the  dependence  of  morality 
upon  experience  is  Herbart's  lasting  contribution  to  the 
theory  of  education.  It  is  only  another  way  of  3a)dng 
that  the  child  is  not  bom  a  moral  being,  but  attains  to 
morality  only  after  a  long  and  tedious  process  of  train- 
ing —  a  process  that  is  justly  termed  education.  The 
Herbartian  school  of  pedagogy  has  consistently  built  upon 
this  principle,  and  it  is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  the 
unquestioned  success  of  this  educational  movement  is 
most  largely  due  to  a  clear  conception  of  the  funda- 
mental truth  here  expressed.  Whatever  differences  of 
opinion  may  appear  in  the  theories  proposed  by  the  sev- 
eral followers  of  Herbart,  there  is  unanimity  of  opinion 
upon  the  aim:  moral  character  must  be  developed,  and 
moral  character  can  be  developed  only  by  a  process  of 
education.     To  this  end  all  means  are  subordinate. 

Although  Herbart  died  more  than  sixty  years  ago,  and 
although,  like  all  other  sciences,  the  science  of  ethics 
has  been  almost  revolutionized  by  the  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution, Herbart's  conception  of  morality  is,  at  basis,  the 
prevailing  conception  to-day.  What  we  commonly  term 
moral  action  is  the  control  of  impulses  that  we  have 
inherited  from  a  long  line  of  brute  and  savage  ancestry. 
When  we  are  hungry,  the  natural  impulse  would  be  to 
appropriate  whatever  article  of  food  we  chanced  to  see. 


58  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

But  if  an  impulse  to  take  food  belonging  to  another  should 
enter  consciousness,  it  would  probably  be  inhibited  by  the 
idea  that  the  food  is  not  ours,  that  we  have  no  right  to  it. 
Such  is  the  type  of  moral  action.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
we  seldom  practice  this  inhibition,  because  the  tendency 
to  respect  the  rights  of  others  is  so  thoroughly  ingrained 
upon  our  nervous  systems  that  the  primitive  impulse 
seldom  makes  itself  felt.  Nevertheless,  it  has  been  edu- 
cation of  one  kind  or  another  that  has  impressed  this 
tendency  to  respect  the  rights  of  others.  The  "natural 
man"  would  not  think  for  a  moment  of  doing  so.  He 
would  never  have  assimilated  experiences  that  would  lead 
him  to  modify  impulse  in  this  way.  The  distinction  be- 
tween Oliver  Twist's  education  at  the  hands  of  Fagin 
and  the  education  that  the  public  school  attempts  to 
give,  is  a  moral  distinction.  Both  have  equal  rights  to 
the  term  "  education,"  for  in  both  cases  experiences  are 
fixed  for  the  definite  purpose  of  modifying  future  action. 
But  in  Fagin's  case  the  experiences  were  to  modify  action 
with  reference  to  immoral  ends,  while  the  contrary  is  true 
with  the  education  of  the  pubhc  school.  We  generally 
understand  that  when  we  select  experiences  for  educa- 
tional purposes,  we  have  definitely  in  mind  a  measurable 
addition  to  the  child's  capital  of  character;  and  moral 
character  is  nothing  more  nor  less  that  an  habitual  and 
ideal  bias  toward  moral  action. 

lo.    (/)    The  Development  of  the  Socially  Efficient  In- 
dividual as  the  Ultimate  .End  of  Education.     The  point 


THE   ETHICAL    END    OF    EDUCATION  59 

that  Herbart  and  his  followers  have  failed  to  emphasize 
is  the  social  essence  of  morality.  It  is  true  that  the  social 
criterion  is  implicit  in  the  Herbartian  ethics,  as,  indeed, 
the  same  criterion  is  implicit  in  practically  all  ethical 
theories.  There  is  an  advantage,  however,  in  using  the 
term  "  socially  efficient "  in  place  of  the  term  "  moral." 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  more  definite ;  in  the  second  place, 
it  emphasizes  the  social  factor,  and,  inasmuch  as  the 
school  is  supported  by  society  presumably  for  society's 
benefit,  it  is  only  right  that  this  factor  should  find  a  defi- 
nite expression  in  the  aim  of  the  school. 

The  equivalence  of  the  terms  "social"  and  "moral"  has 
been  stated  rather  dogmatically,  and  demands  further  explana- 
tion. It  is  clear  that  the  inborn  or  brute  tendencies  which 
exist  in  man  until  he  is  educated  away  from  them  are,  in 
reality,  legitimate  products  of  heredity.  Yet  they  are  in  their 
essence  purely  individual,  and  make  for  the  satisfaction  of  indi- 
vidual desires.  They  are  opposed  to  everything  that  is  social 
and  altruistic.  But  the  conquest  of  these  tendencies  is  uni- 
versally agreed  to  be  a  process  of  moral  development ;  while, 
from  its  very  nature,  it  is  also  a  process  of  social  development. 
The  keynote  of  morality  is  self-denial ;  yet  the  very  term  "  self- 
denial"  implies  the  denial  of  self  to  others  —  the  true  essence 
of  the  social  spirit. 

The  doctrine  of  evolution  has  revolutionized  ethics,  inas- 
much as  it  has  revealed  the  equivalence  of  the  terms  "  social  " 
and  "  moral,"  And  in  rationalizing  ethics  it  has  pointed  out 
that  self-denial,  unchecked  by  the  social  criterion,  may  become 
as  immoral  as  self-indulgence.  It  recognizes  to  the  finest  de- 
gree the  delicate  balance  between  the  individual  and  society, 
in  the  neglect  of  which  courage  becomes  foolhardiness,  tem- 


6c  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

perance  passes  over  into  asceticism,  enthusiasm  engenden 
fanaticism,  and  virtue  degenerates  into  vice.  Morality  means 
the  control  of  impulse  with  reference  to  a  social  end ;  but  this 
control  assuredly  defeats  its  own  purpose  when  it  completely 
annihilates  impulse.  Absolute  self-sacrifice  is  the  greatest  of 
virtues  only  when  it  can  be  distinctly  proved  that  the  termina- 
tion of  the  individual  life  will  do  mo:e  to  promote  social  wel- 
fare than  a  continuation  of  the  same  life  would  accomplish. 

The  world  has  recognized  this  fact  for  ages.  One  man 
sacrifices  his  life  in  order  to  crush  tyranny,  and  the  world 
honors  him  as  a  martyr;  another  meets  the  same  fate  for 
the  same  reason,  and  the  world  anathematizes  him  as  an  assas- 
sin. Judged  by  subjective  standards,  each  man's  act  merits 
the  same  reward.  But  the  world  does  not  judge  acts  by  the 
subjective  standards  of  the  agent.  It  has  an  eye  to  its  own  wel- 
fare, and  it  dubs  this  man  a  hero  and  that  man  a  rascal  accord- 
ing as  the  deeds  of  each  are  consistent  or  inconsistent  with  this 
welfare.  This  view  may  be  distasteful,  but  it  is  relentlessly 
logical.  We  may  rebel  against  the  apotheosis  of  society  and 
the  consequent  sacrifice  of  the  individual,  but  all  the  facts  of 
nature  range  themselves  against  us.  "It  is  a  condition  and 
lot  a  theory  that  confronts  us." 

Social  efficiency,  then,  is  the  standard  by  which  the 
forces  of  education  must  select  the  experiences  that  are 
to  be  impressed  upon  the  individual.  Every  subject  of 
instruction,  every  item  of  knowledge,  every  form  of  reac- 
tion, every  detail  of  habit,  must  be  measured  by  this 
yardstick.  Not  What  pleasure  will  this  bring  to  the 
individual,  not  In  what  manner  will  this  contribute  to 
his  harmonious  development,  not  What  effect  will  this 
have  upon  his  bread-winning  capacity,  —  but  always, 
Will  this  subject,  or  this  knowledge,  or  this  reaction,  oi 


THE    ETHICAL    END    OF    EDUCATION  6l 

this  habit  so  function  in  his  after-life  that  society  will 
maximally  profit? 

II.  The  present  chapter  thus  far  has  been  largely  a 
statement  of  opinion  —  largely  speculative.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  aim  of  education  is  an  ethical  question,  and, 
like  all  ethical  questions,  it  seeks,  not  to  establish  facts, 
but  to  set  up  norms  and  standards.  It  impUes  a  broad 
outlook,  based  upon  a  multitude  of  facts  and  theories; 
and  the  pressing  problem  is  to  hit  upon  a  norm  or  stand- 
ard that  will  be  consistent  with  these  facts  and  theories. 
We  have  still  to  continue  for  a  brief  space  this  general 
method  of  procedure.  Social  efficiency  has  been  pro- 
posed as  the  ultimate  aim  of  education.  It  now  remains 
to  state  as  clearly  and  explicitly  as  possible  just  what 
social  efficiency  means.  This,  too,  will  be  largely  in  the 
nature  of  individual  opinion.  We  cannot  always  wait 
for  problems  to  be  solved  by  the  exact  methods  of  sci- 
ence. If  we  could  there  would  be  much  less  theoriz- 
ing in  the  world;  but  it  goes  without  saying  that  exist- 
ing conditions  frequently  forbid  such  delay.  What  we 
need  in  education  is  something  definite  to  tie  to.  If 
this  something  be  accurate  and  exact,  so  much  the  bet- 
ter; if  it  cannot  be  accurate  and  exact,  let  it  approach 
this  ideal  as  closely  as  possible,  but  in  any  case  let  it 
be  definite.  If  we  have  a  definite  notion  of  what  we  are 
trying  to  accomphsh,  and  if  we  reahze  that  this  notion 
is  subject  at  all  times  to  the  changes  that  later  discoveries 
may  necessitate,  we  shall  at  least  have  a  chance  to  make 


62  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

some  degree  of  progress  and  yet  escape  the  danger  that 
is  incident  to  hasty  generalization. 

(i)  That  person  only  is  socially  efficient  who  is  not  a 
drag  upon  society;  who,  in  other  words,  can  "pull  his 
own  weight,"  either  directly  as  a  productive  agent  or 
indirectly  by  guiding,  inspiring,  or  educating  others  to 
productive  effort. 

This  requires  of  a  socially  efficient  individual  that  he  be  able 
to  earn  his  livelihood,  either  in  a  productive  employment  or 
in  an  employment  where  his  energy  will  be  ultimately  if  not 
directly  turned  into  a  productive  channel.  For  example,  the 
farmer,  the  miner,  the  fisherman,  are  all  engaged  in  producing, 
in  turning  the  products  of  nature  to  the  needs  of  man ;  likewise 
the  manufacturer  who  continues  this  process  of  conversion,  the 
carrier  who  transports  the  products  to  those  that  need  them, 
the  tradesman  who  turns  them  over  to  the  consumer.  Indi- 
rectly, the  housewife  or  the  boarding-house  keeper  who  main- 
tains those  that  are  engaged  in  productive  labor  is  performing  a 
necessary  function  in  the  productive  process.  Not  less,  though 
more  indirectly,  are  the  physician  who  keeps  men  at  a  maxi- 
mal degree  of  productivity ;  the  clergyman  who  does  his  best 
to  free  their  lives  from  tendencies  that  would  interfere  with 
maximal  productivity ;  the  teacher  who  renders  the  productive 
capacity  more  efficient  by  rendering  the  producer  more  intelli- 
gent ;  the  lawyer,  the  jurist,  and  the  statesman  who  adjudicate 
conflicting  claims  and  keep  men  from  wasteful  disputes.  And, 
finally,  there  are  those  whose  business  it  is  to  amuse  and  enter- 
tain, and  who,  by  relieving  the  mind  of  its  tension  for  a  while, 
enable  the  producer  to  go  back  to  his  work  with  new  energy, 
new  courage,  and  new  hope. 

Nor  is  this  merely  an  academic  analysis  of  society.  It  is 
confirmed  upon  every  side  by  the  activities   of  social  life. 


THE   ETHICAL   END    OF    EDUCATION  63 

Every  boy  who  sets  out  to  secure  employment  realizes  the 
significance  of  this  process  before  he  has  applied  at  a  half- 
score  of  places.  He  finds  that  it  is  the  man  who  can  fit  into 
one  or  another  of  these  niches  that  is  in  demand ;  and  he  is  in 
demand  because,  in  one  way  or  another,  he  adds  something 
to  the  world's  prosperity.  Incidentally  the  world  repays  him 
in  kind. 

The  man  who  does  not  "  pull  his  weight,"  either  directly  by 
manipulating  an  oar,  or  indirectly  by  steering  the  boat,  direct- 
ing the  oarsmen  to  concerted  effort,  quelling  the  strife  that 
interferes  with  effort,  caring  for  them  when  they  break  down, 
keeping  their  minds  in  a  healthy  condition,  inventing  devices 
for  making  their  work  more  efficient  and  less  wasteful,  showing 
them  how  to  apply  the  experiences  of  their  predecessors  to  the 
end  of  better  service,  amusing,  encouraging,  comforting,  inspir- 
ing them  to  greater  effort  —  such  a  man  steals  his  ride,  and  it 
is  such  a  man  that  we  term  socially  inefficient.  Sometimes  he 
is  thrown  overboard,  but  the  world  has  gradually  grown  away 
from  this  remedy  because  it  has  discovered  that  the  process 
really  does  more  harm  than  good,  tending  in  the  long  run  so 
to  brutalize  the  workers  as  to  interfere  materially  with  their 
highest  efficiency. 

(2)  That  man  only  is  socially  efficient  who,  in  addition 
to  "pulling  his  own  weight,"  interferes  as  little  as  possi- 
ble with  the  efforts  of  others. 

This  requires  of  a  socially  efficient  individual  that  he  be 
moral  in  at  least  a  negative  fashion;  that  he  respect  the 
rights  of  others,  sacrificing  his  own  pleasure  when  this  inter- 
feres with  the  productive  eff^orts  of  his  fellows. 

(3)  That  man  is  socially  most  efficient  who  not  only  ful- 
fills these  two  requirements,  but  also  lends  his  energy 


64  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

consciously  and  persistently  to  that  further  differentiation 
and  integration  of  social  forces  which  is  everywhere 
synonymous  with  progress. 

This  demands  of  a  socially  efficient  individual  that  he  be 
positively  moral;  that  he  not  only  refrain  from  injuring  his 
fellow-workers,  but  that  he  contribute  something  to  their 
further  advancement;  that  he  repay  to  the  world  not  only 
the  cost  of  his  existence,  but  as  much  more  as  his  strength  and 
his  life  span  will  permit;  that  he  sacrifice  his  own  pleasure, 
not  only  when  its  gratification  interferes  with  the  rights  of 
others,  but  also  when  its  gratification  will  not  directly  or 
indirectly  lead  to  social  advancement. 

12.  "True  education,  always  personal,  will  develop 
the  social  consciousness  and  promote  genuine  social  cul- 
ture." ^  This  is  the  standard  by  which  it  must  select 
the  experiences  that  are  to  modify  future  adjustment. 
It  is  obvious  that  this  aim  includes  the  "bread-and- 
butter"  aim,  without  at  the  same  time  involving  its  per- 
nicious subjective  tendencies.  No  man  would  be  socially 
efficient  who  was  unable  to  earn  a  livelihood.  In  gen- 
eral, the  better  the  "living"  that  he  procures,  the  higher 
the  degree  of  his  efficiency.  This  aim  also  includes  the 
"knowledge"  aim.  It  recognizes  the  possible  value  of 
every  item  of  knowledge  to  social  welfare;  but  it  does 
not  abstract  knowledge  from  the  rest  of  life  or  main- 
tain that  it  is  or  ever  can  be  a  sufficient  end  in  itself. 
It  includes  the  "harmonious  development"  aim,  for  it 

1  J.  H.  W.  Stuckenberg:  Sociology^  New  York,  1903,  vol.  ii,  p.  272. 


THE   ETHICAL   END   OF   EDUCATION  6$ 

sets  up  a  criterion  with  which  development  shall  har- 
monize: those  capacities  of  the  individual  are  to  be 
developed  that  will  best  subserve  his  social  needs.  And 
finally  it  includes  the  "moral"  aim,  because,  generally 
speaking,  the  moral  standard  is  the  social  standard.  It 
includes  the  "culture"  aim  only  in  so  far  as  conventional 
requirements  are  positive  factors  in  social  progress. 

The  standard  of  social  efficiency  must  be  rigorously 
appUed  to  the  products  of  the  school.  The  school  must 
fit  the  individual,  not  for  the  Ufe  of  the  past,  nor  for  a 
remote  Utopian  future,  but  for  the  immediate  future, 
the  requirements  of  which  can  be  predicted  with  reason- 
able certainty.  If  it  fails  to  do  this,  the  school  cannot 
justify  its  existence.^ 

1  The  aim  of  social  efficiency  is  implicit  in  all  recent  educational  writ- 
ings. Cf.  O'Shea,  op.  cit.,  p.  95,  "Education,  then,  .  .  .  must  seek  to 
develop  social  action  ;  it  can  take  no  account  of  possible  thought  or  feel- 
ing which  exercises  no  influence  upon  one's  behavior  toward  his  associates 
in  the  business  of  life."  See  also  J.  Dewey :  The  School  and  Society, 
Chicago,  1899;  S.T.  Button:  Social  Phases  of  Education,  H. '^.,1^9^ 


PART   II.     THE    ACQUISITION   OF 
EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  Reading  of  Meaning  into  Sense  Impressions: 
Apperception 

I.  Mind  is  informed  of  the  condition  of  the  various 
parts  of  the  body  and  of  the  happenings  in  the  external 
world  by  means  of  sensations.  Each  of  the  sense  organs 
is  a  nerve  structure  especially  adapted  to  pick  up  a  certain 
type  of  information.  The  eye  responds  to  light  impres- 
sions, the  ear  to  sound  impressions,  the  temperature 
spots  to  impressions  of  warmth  or  cold,  the  nerve  endings 
in  the  tendons  to  variations  in  strain,  and  so  on.  It 
is  necessary  that  the  movements  and  life  of  an  organism 
should  be  governed  in  accordance  with  bodily  needs 
and  with  the  condition  of  the  external  world,  and  sensa- 
tion is  the  channel  through  which  are  reported  the  changes 
and  happenings  upon  which  adjustment  must  depend. 

Adjustment,  therefore,  is  the  end  toward  which  sen- 
sation is  the  means.  If  the  body  could  not  be  adjusted 
in  accordance  with  the  reports  furnished  by  the  sense 
organs,  mind  or  consciousness  would  be  of  no  value  to 
the  organism;  it  would  be  "a  luxury  without  a  purpose." 

66 


APPERCEPTION  67 

2.  But  this  does  not  mean  that  the  purposeful  char- 
acter of  sensation  is  obvious  from  the  outset.  When  the 
infant  first  begins  to  receive  impressions  from  the  outer 
world,  these  impressions  are  quite  devoid  of  the  sig- 
nificance that  an  adult  would  attach  to  them.  The  vari- 
ous sensations  which  the  adult  would  combine  and 
interpret  as  "nurse"  or  "mother"  are,  at  first,  entirely 
without  meaning  to  the  infant.  Indeed,  it  is  probable 
that  they  are  not  joined  together  in  a  unitary  impres- 
sion, remaining  simply  a  continuous  complex  of  conscious 
changes  which  constitute,  in  Professor  James's  happy 
phrase,  "a  big,  blooming,  buzzing  Confusion."  Gradu- 
ally, however,  these  chaotic  impressions  come  to  be  asso- 
ciated with  the  feeding  process,  with  the  satisfaction 
of  hunger ;  and  slowly  —  very  slowly  —  the  vague,  undif- 
ferentiated mass  of  sensation  and  feeling  is  resolved  into 
a  number  of  meaningful  units  —  into  objects  and  pro- 
cesses that  have  a  definite  reference  to  the  pleasure  or 
pain  of  the  infant's  existence.  This  process  of  unifying 
and  making  "meaningful"  the  data  furnished  by  sensa- 
tion is  known  as  apperception. 

3.  The  fundamental  law  of  apperception  is  this: 
the  unifying  of  sensations  into  concrete  experiences  is 
accomplished  through  the  adjustments  to  which  the  sen- 
sations themselves  give  rise.  This  statement  appears 
to  be  paradoxical.  One  might,  indeed,  infer  at  first 
sight  that  the  cart  has  been  placed  before  the  horse; 
and  so  in  truth  the  cart  is  placed  before  the  horse  in 


68  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

the  development  of  experience.  The  use  to  which  sen 
sations  are  put  determines  their  significance  to  the  organ- 
ism —  determines,  in  other  words,  their  meaning.  A 
stimulus  is  presented  to  an  infant  and  reaction  follows. 
The  stimulus  becomes  a  sensation;  that  is,  the  infant 
is  "conscious"  of  it  in  a  vague,  incoherent  fashion.  A 
reaction  follows  upon  the  stimulus,  but  the  initiation 
of  the  reaction  is  unconscious ;  that  is,  it  follows  instinc- 
tively or  reflexly  upon  the  stimulus  and  would  have 
taken  place  even  though  the  stimulus  had  not  entered 
consciousness  as  sensation.  But  this  instinctive  reac- 
tion is  also  reported  to  consciousness  through  the  agency 
of  the  strain  sensations  arising  in  the  tendons ;  the  mus- 
cular adjustments  to  which  the  stimulus  gave  rise  are 
made  data  of  the  child's  consciousness  and  become  fused 
with  the  original  sensations  which  the  stimulus  aroused. 
Repetitions  follow,  and  this  association  between  the  sen- 
sation occasioned  by  the  stimulus  and  the  sensations  occa- 
sioned by  the  instinctive  adjustment  to  the  stimulus 
becomes  firmly  fixed.  Gradually  the  stimulus  loses  its 
vague  and  incoherent  character.  It  comes  to  "mean" 
a  definite  sort  of  response,  the  satisfaction  of  a  definite 
need. 

This  may  be  stated  more  concretely.  Consider,  for 
example,  the  sucking  reflex  caused  by  the  stimulus  of 
the  nipple  upon  the  child's  lips.  This  reflex  may  be 
initiated  and  probably  is  initiated  in  the  first  days  of 
the   infant's   life   without   an   accompanying   sensation  j 


APPERCEPTION  69 

in  other  words,  the  entire  process  is  just  as  mechanical 
as  the  adjustment  that  carries  the  moth  to  the  flame. 
But  there  comes  a  time  when  the  stimulus  of  the  nipple 
on  the  lips  reaches  the  conscious  threshold.  A  fraction 
of  a  second  later  the  sensation  thus  aroused  is  fused 
with  the  strain  sensations  coming  from  the  adjustments 
of  sucking.  The  two  together  form  a  unitary  impres- 
sion closely  correlated  with  the  satisfaction  of  hunger. 

The  sucking  reflex  is  purposive  in  its  character,  but 
the  infant  makes  a  great  many  movements  which  are 
not  purposive  but  rather  spontaneous  and  random, 
and  which  are  caused  by  an  overflow  of  energy,  as  it 
were,  from  the  motor  centers.^  Suppose  that  a  series 
of  these  random  movements  is  going  on  and  at  the 
same  time  some  object  stimulates  the  sense  organs  of 
sight,  giving  the  infant  a  complex  of  visual  sensations. 
In  one  of  the  random  movements  he  may  grasp  the  object 
that  caused  the  sensations.  Immediately  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  object  is  ampHfied.  His  visual  sensations 
are  supplemented  by  a  large  number  of  pressure  and 
strain  sensations  incident  to  the  movement  and  the 
grasping.  His  perception,  which  before  was  vague 
and  meaningless,  becomes  more  sharply  defined,  more 
accurate,  more  adequate. 

But  this  does  not  tell  the  whole  story.    If  conscious- 

*  Cf.  Baldwin's  theory  of  "  excess  discharge,"  Mental  Devdopment  : 
Methods  and  Processes,  New  York,  1895,  pp.  179  ff.;  also  Developmeiu 
and  Evolution,  pp.  108  ff. 


70  THE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

ness  merely  took  cognizance  of  stimuli  and  of  the  reac- 
tions that  heredity  has  provided  for  such  stimuh,  it 
would  fail  to  serve  a  useful  purpose.  Consciousness, 
however,  has  a  vital  function.  In  the  instance  of  the 
sucking  reflex  mentioned  above,  it  is  apparent  that  the 
entire  process  represented  by  the  stimulus  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  reaction  on  the  other  would  be  colored 
by  a  pleasant  affection.  This  pleasant  coloring  would 
reenforce  or  confirm  the  inherited  adjustment.  But  the 
grasping  of  the  object  in  the  second  instance  may,  on 
the  contrary,  have  resulted  unpleasantly.  In  this  case, 
the  next  time  that  it  presented  itself,  the  tendency  would 
be  to  withdraw  from  it  rather  than  to  grasp  it.  Thus 
the  first  effect  of  experience  upon  adjustment  is,  as  Mr. 
Hobhouse^  points  out,  either  to  confirm  or  inhibit  an 
inherited  reaction. 

So  much  for  the  very  earliest  form  of  interpreting 
the  data  of  sensation.  If  this  account  be  correct,  it 
would  seem  that  the  most  primitive  of  mental  functions 
has  its  basis  in  the  inherited  structure  of  the  nervous 
system  —  in  the  inherited  tendencies  to  reaction  that 
operate  in  the  beginning  entirely  apart  from  conscious 
control.  The  threads  that  are  necessary  to  combine 
the  data  of  sensation  into  meaningful  units  —  into  unified 
perceptions  —  are  furnished  by  the  sensations  of  strain 
arising  from  this  reaction.  Thus  the  cart  is  placed  before 
the  horse  because  nature  has  provided  instinctive  adjust- 

^  L.  T.  Hobbouse:  Mind  in  Evolution,  London,  1901,  pp.  85  H. 


APPERCEPTION  71 

ments  that  shall  serve  the  purposes  of  the  organism 
until  consciousness  is  ready  to  take  the  reins  of  conduct 
into  its  own  hands;  and,  to  continue  the  figure,  instinct 
must  needs  give  the  budding  mind  a  few  lessons  in  the 
control  of  adjustment  before  it  relinquishes  its  authority 
and  becomes  the  servant  instead  of  the  master. 

4.  The  sensations  of  strain  continue  throughout  life 
to  play  the  role  of  centralizing  or  unifying  agencies.  It 
is  they  that  weave  the  thread  of  continuity  through  the 
disparate  elements  of  our  experience  and  resolve  the 
numberless  data  with  which  the  senses  furnish  us  into 
definite,  coherent,  and  meaningful  unities.  To  consider 
a  concrete  case:  Analysis  of  my  present  consciousness 
reveals  a  complex  of  visual  sensations  —  light  and  shade 
and  color  —  which  unite  to  give  me  the  perception  of 
a  certain  form.  I  can  also  find  in  my  present  conscious- 
ness a  sensation  of  warmth,  the  sound  of  a  slight  buzzing, 
a  vague,  reproduced  idea  of  touching  a  hard,  smooth 
substance,  a  revived  idea  of  weight.  These  are  the 
elementary  processes  that  are  just  now  informing  me  of 
an  object  in  my  environment.  But  I  have  to  analyze 
my  consciousness  carefully  to  get  these  elements  out  of 
it,  so  ihoroughly  are  they  woven  together  in  the  total 
perception  of  the  object  itself.  If  I  were  not  trying 
to  "psychologize,"  I  should  find  no  difficulty  and  little 
interest  in  the  object  before  me.  I  should  know  it  as 
a  lamp.  That  is,  I  should  know  it,  not  as  a  complex 
of  sensations,  some  visual,  some  thermal,  some  cutane- 


72  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

ous,  some  kinaesthetic ;  but  I  should  know  it  as  an  ob- 
ject that  furnishes  me  with  light.  I  should  "apper- 
ceive  "  it  with  reference  to  the  use  to  which  I  put  it  — 
with  reference  to  its  relation  to  my  Hfe. 

It  might  be  urged,  however,  that  this  attempt  to  analyze 
my  consciousness  of  the  lamp  really  does  violence  to  the 
facts  in  the  case.  It  is  true  that  I  am  conscious  of  the 
lamp  as  a  unified  object  and  that  I  am  not  conscious  of 
the  component  sensations  as  such.  But  what  would 
be  the  condition  of  affairs  with  the  infant  who  sees  a 
lamp  for  the  first  time?  Would  the  sensations  that 
the  object  arouses  in  him  have  any  reference  to  his  life? 
What  reason  would  he  have  for  separating  it  from  the 
rest  of  the  environment  —  from  the  table,  the  books, 
the  papers,  and  other  objects  into  which  we,  as  adults, 
read  significance  and  meaning  and  unity?  Or  con- 
sider the  case  of  the  savage  who  knows  nothing  of  lamps. 
Would  not  the  bare  sensations  to  which  the  object  gives 
rise  be  meaningless  to  him  ?  —  not,  perhaps,  in  the  degree 
in  which  they  are  meaningless  to  the  child,  for  he  would 
try  to  make  something  significant  out  of  them,  but  mean- 
ingless when  compared  with  our  own  interpretation 
of  them? 

It  seems  clear,  then,  that  the  analysis  given  above, 
while  it  does  violence  to  the  adult  conception  of  things, 
really  lays  bare  the  elements  that  would  be  operative 
in  the  mind  of  the  infant  or  the  savage.  That  is,  it 
discloses  the  original  meaningless  "stuff"  out  of  which 


APPERCEPTION  73 

experience  gradually  elaborates  a  meaningful  world. 
The  synthesis  of  chaotic  elements  into  meaningful  units 
is  made  possible  by  the  fact  that  certain  of  these  elements 
stand  in  a  definite  relation  to  some  need  of  the  organism. 
This  need  is  represented  by  a  pleasant  or  unpleasant 
afiFective  coloring,  and  the  relation  of  sense  impressions 
to  this  need  is  made  manifest  to  mind  by  the  data  of  bodily 
adjustment  reported  through  the  agency  of  strain  sensa- 
tions. In  adult  life,  as  in  the  first  mental  functionings 
of  infancy,  the  strain  sensations  form  the  threads  that 
weave  together  the  otherwise  disconnected  strands  of 
consciousness.  The  factor  of  use  is  the  constant  factor 
in  all  our  experiences  with  objects  and  processes  of  the 
outer  world.  Chairs,  for  example,  may  differ  in  every 
imaginable  quality,  —  in  shape,  in  size,  in  color,  in  mate- 
rial. But  there  is  one  thing  that  is  constant  in  our  expe- 
riences with  the  objects  to  which  we  give  the  name 
"chair,"  and  that  is  use  or  function.  While  qualita- 
tive differences  are  represented  in  mind  by  the  sensations 
of  sight,  hearing,  pressure,  taste,  smell,  etc.,  use  or  func- 
tion is  represented  by  the  sensations  of  strain  that  origi- 
nate in  bodily  adjustment. 

The  importance  of  the  sensations  of  strain  in  reading  unity 
and  meaning  into  sense  impressions  has  only  recently  been 
recognized.  That  they  play  a  prominent  role  in  the  process  of 
attention  (essentially  a  unifying  or  centralizing  process)  was 
clearly  shown  by  Ribot*  some  years  ago,  but  this  represents 

1  Th.  Ribot:  Psychology  of  Attention,  English  trans.,  Chicago,  1889. 


74  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

only  one  phase  of  their  manifold  duties.  Baldwin  *  points  out 
that  the  motor  processes  are  extremely  important  in  recogni- 
tion and  assimilation  :  "  The  sense  of  assimilation  in  each  suc- 
cessive appearance  of  the  same  objective  content  varies  with 
the  different  motor  shades  of  attention,  just  as  it  also  varies  for 
the  different  sense  quaHties  by  reason  of  the  different  motor 
associations,  strains,  etc.,  involved  in  accommodating  to  the 
different  sense  qualities."  And  again,  "  Every  two  elements 
whatever,  connected  together  in  consciousness,  are  so  only 
because  they  have  motor  effects  in  common.''''  Stout*  also  calls 
attention  in  no  uncertain  terms  to  the  fundamental  significance 
of  the  kinaesthetic  elements  :  "  Perceptual  process  is  penetrated 
through  and  through  by  experiences  of  movement.  Passive 
sensations  only  serve  to  guide  and  define  motor  activities." 

Still  more  definite  and  tangible  is  the  position  recently  taken 
by  Professor  King:^  "  The  differentiation  of  the  special  forms 
of  sense  experience  from  the  primary  general  consciousness  takes 
place  as  a  function  of  the  child's  increasing  demands  for  fuller 
activity.  The  connections  are  made  possible  on  the  sensory 
side  because  they  have  first  occurred,  or  been  made  necessary, 
on  the  active  side.  The  infant  repeatedly  finds  the  same  com- 
plexes of  sensations  connected  with  a  certain  set  of  activities. 
The  activity  is  a  unit,  and  the  group  of  eye,  ear,  and  tactual 
sensations  become  inextricably  bound  up  with  the  act,  and  per- 
haps come  to  be  symboUc  of  it ;  the  reinstatement  of  one  of  the 
sensations  serving  to  call  up  the  images  of  the  others  as  it  sets 
up  the  activity  for  which  it  stands.  The  unity  in  the  reference 
of  the  sensations  comes  in  on  the  side  of  the  act.  Later,  when 
the  object  is  known  as  an  object,  the  sensations  are  easily  trans- 
ferred to  it,  or,  rather,  the  object  seen  is  recognized  as  the  one 

1  J.  M.  Baldwin:  Mental  Development,  New  York,  1895,  PP-  3'°  ^' 
'  G.  T.  Stout:  Analytic  Psychology,  London,  1896,  vol.  i,  pp.  212-223; 

Manual  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1899,  PP-  64>  464-467. 

'Irving  King:   Psychology  of  Child  Development,  Chicago,  1903,  pp 

36-37. 


APPERCEPTION  75 

touched  or  seen,  because  it  has  been  the  basis  of  a  previous  single 
activity."  And  again  (p.  37) :  "  If  it  were  not  for  the  connecting 
activity,  there  would  be  absolutely  no  ground  on  which  the  senses 
could  be  brought  together  in  their  reference  and  thus  beconae 
more  than  mere  undefined  modifications  of  the  general  tonus  of 
consciousness.  ...  It  is  only  as  something  is  done  with  the 
object,  and  the  various  senses  cooperate  in  the  doing,  that 
their  unity  of  reference  appears,  .  .  .  The  child's  first  objects 
are  really  certain  possible  activities  that  are  symbolized  by  cer- 
tain sensations  involved  in  performing  the  acts." 

5.  That  the  strain  sensations  really  fulfill  the  impor- 
tant function  of  weaving  together  the  conscious  elements 
is  thus  seen  to  be  supported  by  the  testimony  of  con- 
temporary investigators.  It  may  not  be  amiss,  however, 
to  detail  some  of  the  direct  evidence  that  lends  support 
to  this  contention.  This  evidence  may  be  classified 
under  three  heads:  (a)  pathological,  (6)  anatomical, 
and  (c)  genetic.^ 

(a)  Pathological.  Baldwin^  has  called  attention  to  the 
mental  disturbance  known  as  apraxia  as  throwing  light  upon 
this  problem.  Patients  who  are  afflicted  with  this  disease  fail 
to  read  meaning  or  significance  into  certain  of  the  sensations 
that  come  to  them  from  the  outer  world.  They  lack  the 
capacity  to  grasp  the  significance  which  the  normal  mind  at- 
taches to  objects  of  common  use.  This  does  not  imply  that 
there  is  a  disturbance  in  the  functioning  of  the  sense  organs,  or 

^  It  would  take  us  too  far  afield  to  note  the  long  series  of  investigations 
through  which  the  strain  sensations  came  to  be  recognized  as  integral 
(and  integrating)  elements  of  consciousness.  For  this  historical  data  the 
reader  is  referred  to  W.  A.  Lay :  ExperimentelU  Didaktik,  Wiesbaden, 
1903.  PP-  10  ff. 

*  J.  M.  Baldwin:  MetUal Development,  p.  311. 


^  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

of  the  nerves  that  carry  the  impressions  to  the  cortex,  or  of  the 
nerves  that  innervate  the  muscles.  The  trouble  is  "  central  " ; 
it  lies  in  the  cortex  itself.  Nor  is  it  in  the  centers  that  receive 
the  impressions,  nor  yet  in  the  centers  that  send  the  im- 
pressions outward.  It  is  rather  in  the  centers  in  which  the 
incoming  impressions  are  associated  with  other  impressions 
and  with  the  residua  that  past  experiences  have  left  in  the 
form  of  modifications  of  nerve  structure. 

As  far  as  his  use  of  the  object  is  concerned,  the  patient 
afflicted  with  this  disease  approximates  the  condition  of  the 
infant.  He  sees  the  object  or  touches  it,  just  as  the  infant 
may,  but  the  past  experiences  that  should  enable  him  to  read 
into  it  its  normal  meaning  have  in  some  way  become  disso- 
ciated from  the  impressions  of  sight  and  touch.  Such  a  patient 
may  use  chairs  or  books  for  firewood,  confuse  the  use  of  such 
articles  as  washbowls  and  drinking  cups  (drinking  out  of  the 
one  and  attempting  to  wash  in  the  other),  and  in  similar  ways 
show  that  he  has  no  appreciation  of  the  use  to  which  different 
objects  are  normally  put.^ 

From  a  study  of  apraxia  it  seems  clear  that  meaning  and 
use  are  intimately  connected  with  one  another,  and  that  loss 
of  meaning  carries  with  it  loss  of  use  and  vice  versa.  Use, 
however,  must  be  represented  in  consciousness  by  some  form 
of  sensation,  and  the  kinaesthetic  or  motor  elements  involved 
in  sensations  of  strain  seem  to  be  the  natural  agencies  for 
fulfilling  this  function. 

{b)  Anatomical,  (i)  The  ground  plan  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem —  the  arrangement  of  sensory  systems,  association  systems, 
and  motor  systems  ^  —  may  be  looked  upon  as  substantial  evi- 
dence that  mind  exists  for  the  purpose  of  adjusting  the  organism 
to  its  environment  consistently  with  reports  informing  of  this 
environment.     In  harmony  with  this  general  arrangement,  we 

1  Cf.  J.  Collins :  The  Faculty  of  Speech  :  A  Study  of  Aphasia,  New  York, 
1898,  pp.  293  f. 

*  L.  F.  Barker :   The  Nervotu  System,  New  York,  1899,  ch.  xxvi. 


APPERCEPTION  77 

must  conclude  that  the  ultimate  standard  or  test  of  all  nervous 
action  is  adjustment.  It  must  be  in  terms  of  adjusted  response 
that  the  intermediate  sensory  and  intellectual  processes  acquire 
meaning  and  significance. 

(2)  Increase  in  intelligence  in  the  animal  series  is  correlated 
with  increase  in  delicacy  and  nicety  of  motor  coordination. 
On  the  anatomical  side,  this  delicacy  of  coordination  is  repre- 
sented by  an  increase  in  the  diameter  of  the  pyramidal  tracts 
—  large  bundles  of  fibers  that  carry  the  motor  impulses  from 
the  cerebral  cortex  to  centers  in  the  ventral  and  lateral  portions 
of  the  spinal  cord,  whence  their  impressions  are  distributed  along 
the  motor  nerves  to  the  muscles.  The  greater  the  number  of 
fibers,  the  more  complete  is  the  control  that  the  higher  centers 
exercise  over  the  bodily  movements,  and  the  more  accurate  are 
the  coordinations  and  adjustments  with  which  the  organism 
can  meet  definite  situations  of  the  environment.  As  one  would 
naturally  expect,  the  diameter  of  the  pyramidal  tracts  is  found 
to  be  relatively  much  greater  in  man  than  in  the  lower  animals. 

(3)  There  are  recognized  in  the  cerebral  cortex  several 
distinct  areas  that  are  concerned  with  the  registry  of  different 
sensations.  Pressure,  temperature,  organic,  and  kinsesthetic 
(motor)  sensations  are  located  in  the  great  central  region,  for- 
merly called  the  "  motor  "  zone,  but  now  generally  recognized 
as  containing  sensory  as  well  as  motor  centers,  and  known  as 
the  "  somaesthetic  "  area.  The  visual  sensations  are  registered 
in  the  occipital  lobes,  the  auditory  sensations  in  the  temporal 
lobes,  the  smell  sensations  in  the  region  of  the  hippocampal 
gyre,  etc.  All  together,  however,  these  various  sense  areas  oc- 
cupy only  about  one  third  of  the  surface  of  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres. For  many  years,  physiologists  were  puzzled  as  to  what 
function  they  should  ascribe  to  the  remaining  areas  of  the  cortex. 
The  great  region  of  the  frontal  lobes,  the  area  between  the 
parietal  and  occipital  lobes,  the  ventral  portions  of  the  temporal 
lobes,  and  the  Island  of  Reil,  which  together  occupy  two  thirds 
of  the  cortical  surface,  must  have  some  function.    So  uncer- 


^8  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

tain  were  the  date  concerning  these  regions,  that  they  came 
to  be  known  as  the  "  silent  areas  "  of  the  cortex. 

To  Professor  Paul  Flechsig  of  Leipzig  must  be  given  the 
credit  for  clearing  up  the  mystery  of  these  silent  areas/  After 
years  of  study  and  investigation,  he  finally  discovered  a  very 
significant  fact;  namely,  that  cells  in  the  silent  areas  are  pecul- 
iar in  that  they  have  no  direct  connection  with  the  lower 
centers  of  the  midbrain  and  the  cord;  that  is,  they  neither 
receive  impressions  from  the  outer  world  nor  send  "orders" 
directly  to  the  muscles.  They  are,  however,  connected  by 
fibers  with  the  sense  areas.  For  example,  the  cells  in  the  ex- 
tensive region  lying  between  the  occipital,  parietal,  and  tem- 
poral lobes  receive  fibers  from  the  cells  of  the  visual,  auditory, 
and  somaesthetic  areas.  The  inference  almost  forces  itself 
upon  one  that  these  intermediate  areas  function  in  connecting 
the  different  sense  areas.  In  the  parieto-occipital  region,  for 
example,  visual,  auditory,  and  somaesthetic  impressions  may  be 
united  to  form  meaningful  complexes  —  perceptions  and  ideas 
—  involving  all  these  sense  elements. 

If  this  position  taken  by  Flechsig  is  valid, — and  it  is  supported 
by  a  large  mass  of  evidence  from  other  sources,  such  as  pathol- 
ogy and  experimental  physiology,  —  the  confirmation  that  it 
lends  to  our  hypothesis  of  the  fundamental  unifying  function 
of  the  motor  or  kinsesthetic  elements  is  plainly  apparent.  The 
great  somaesthetic  area  in  which  are  registered  the  sensations 
of  movement  is  situated  centrally  as  regards  the  remaining 
sense  areas.  It  is  directly  contiguous  to  all  the  great  "  associa- 
tion centers  "  of  Flechsig,  and  it  doubtless  sends  association 
fibers  into  all  these  areas  and  functions  thoroughly  as  a  centra- 
lizing and  unifying  agency.  * 

^  Wundt's  earlier  hypothesis,  that  the  frontal  lobes  are  concerned  with 
apperception  rather  than  sensation,  was  an  important  suggestion. 

"^  P.  Flechsig :  Ueber  die  Localisation  der  geistigen  Vorgdnge,  Leipzig 
1896;   Gehirn  und  Seele,  Leipzig,  1896. 


APPERCEPTION  79 

(c)  Genetic.  Interesting  testimony  in  support  of  our  hy- 
pothesis is  furnished  by  studies  of  children's  vocabularies  and 
dictionaries.  In  a  "  Boy's  Dictionary  "  of  two  hundred  and 
fifteen  words,  published  by  Miss  Fannie  E.  Wolff,  and  reported 
by  Chamberlain,^  the  following  definitions  appear :  — 

Kiss  is  if  you  hug  and  kiss  somebody. 

Mast  is  what  holds  the  sail  up  top  of  a  ship. 

Milk  is  something  like  cream. 

Nail  is  something  to  put  things  together. 

Nut  is  something  with  a  shell  good  to  eat. 

Open  is  if  the  door  is  not  closed. 

Opera  is  a  house  where  you  see  men  and  ladies  act. 

Pickle  is  something  green  to  eat. 

Quarrel  is  if  you  begin  a  little  fight. 

Ring  is  what  you  wear  on  your  finger. 

Saw  is  if  you  see  something,  after  you  see  it  you  saw  it. 

Tall  is  if  a  tree  is  very  big. 

Ugly  is  if  a  thing  is  not  nice  at  all. 

Vain  is  if  you  always  look  in  the  glass. 

Chamberlain  also  cites  the  following  definitions  given  by  a 
little  girl  six  years  old  :  — 

Brain :  What  you  think  with  in  your  head,  and  the  more 
you  think  the  more  crinkles  there  are. 

Death :  When  you  have  left  oif  breathing  and  the  heart 
stops  also. 

Binet  ^  quotes  the  following  as  characteristic  definitions  given 
by  his  daughters  two  and  one  half  and  four  and  one  half  years 

old:  — 

A  knife  is  to  cut  meat. 
A  clock  is  to  see  the  time. 
A  dog  is  to  have  by  one. 

1  A.  F.  Chamberlain  :   The  Child,  pp.  146  ff. 

'  A.  Binet :  in  Revue  Philosophique,  vol.  xxx,  pp.  582-61 1,  cited  by 
Chamberlain,  p.  147. 


So  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

An  armchair  is  to  sit  in. 

A  garden  is  to  walk  in. 

A  potato  is  to  eat  with  meat. 

A  bird  means  swallows. 

Village  means  one  sees  everybody  pass. 

From  these  definitions  it  would  appear  that  the  factor  of  use 
or  function  is  the  predominant  factor  in  the  child's  conception 
of  an  object.  It  is  the  one  constant  factor  amidst  a  diversity  of 
qualities.  Professor  Earl  Barnes^  gives  some  statistical  results 
that  serve  to  generalize  this  conclusion  with  regard  to  children  :  — 

"The  results,  based  on  fifty  examination  papers  from  boys 
and  fifty  from  girls  of  each  age  between  six  and  fifteen  years 
(in  all  two  thousand  children  sent  in  returns)  contained,  as  col- 
lated, 37,136  statements  about  the  thirty-eight  nouns,  defini- 
tions of  which  had  been  requested.  Here,  again,  it  seems,  the 
uses  and  activities  of  objects  appeal  to  children  before  structure, 
form,  color,  etc.  Of  the  definitions  directly  reporting  use,  the 
proportion  for  each  of  the  years  is  as  follows:  79.49%, 
62.95%,  63.83%,  57.07%,  43-81  %,  43-69%.  33-74%, 
37-75  %>  30-62  %,  —  or,  for  all  ages,  45.58  %." 

6.  A  clear  conception  of  the  fundamental  r61e  that  the 
kinaesthetic  elements  play  in  the  basal  process  of  edu- 
cation —  the  acquisition  of  experience  —  is  essential 
to  an  adequate  construction  of  educational  principles. 
As  Lay 2  truthfully  says,  "Pedagogy  and  didactics 
have  hitherto  neglected  the  kinaesthetic  sensations." 
In  a  later  section  it  will  be  shown  that  primary  educa- 
tion has  recently  come  through  a  process  of  selection 
and  rejection  to  hit  upon  the  factor  of  use  or  function 

^  Quoted  by  Chamberlain,  p.  148. 

*  W.  A.  Lay :  Experimentclle  Didaktik,  p.  10. 


APPERCEPTION  8 1 

as  the  comer  stone  of  its  philosophy.  The  emphasis 
of  the  industrial  feature  in  the  constmctive  work  of  the 
lower  grades,  the  manual  training  and  domestic  science 
of  the  upper  grades,  and  the  agricultural  instruction  in 
the  rural  schools  are  evidence  that  the  importance  of 
the  kinaesthetic  element  is  implicitly  recognized  by  con- 
temporary pedagogy.  One  of  the  objects  of  the  present 
discussion  is  to  make  this  recognition  explicit. 

7.  To  summarize:  The  term  "experience"  implies 
that  certain  mental  processes  acquire  significance  to  the 
life  of  the  organism.  The  "raw  materials"  of  expe- 
rience are  the  elementary  processes  of  consciousness 
—  sensation  and  affection.  The  making  of  these  pro- 
cesses in  their  combinations  significant  —  the  reading 
of  "meaning"  into  them  —  is  technically  termed 
'*  apperception."  ^      Sensations  that  inform   of  the  envi- 

1  It  is  unfortunate  that  one  must  use  a  term  that  has  fallen  into  some- 
thing so  akin  to  disrepute  as  has  the  term  "  apperception."  A  few  years 
ago  Professor  James  severely  criticised  certain  educational  writers  and  pub- 
lishers for  attempting  to  foist  upon  the  rank  and  file  of  teachers  a  number 
•  of  so-called  works  upon  educational  psychology,  purporting  to  explain  the 
hidden  meaning  of  obscure  technical  terms.  An  understanding  of  these 
terms,  it  was  intimated,  would  furnish  an  open  sesame  to  successful  teach- 
ing, and  among  them  apperception  was  easily  the  most  mysterious  and 
bewildering.  While  Professor  James  was  justified  in  exposing  the  shallow- 
ness of  these  works,  one  must  certainly  admit  that  he  went  rather  farther 
than  the  facts  seemed  to  warrant.  That  writers  of  indifferent  psychological 
training  should  have  placed  the  term  "  apperception  "  under  a  temporary 
shadow  of  distrust  is  assuredly  not  a  sufficient  ground  for  dismissing  the 
concept  as  merely  a  "  convenient  name  for  a  process  to  which  every  teacher 
must  frequently  refer,"  but  which  "  psychology  itself  can  easily  dispense 
with."  True,  as  James  says,  "  it  verily  means  nothing  more  than  the  act 
of  taking  a  thing  into  the  mind."    And  true  it  is  that  digestion  meav 


82  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

ronment  are  interpreted,  not  according  to  their  in- 
trinsic nature,  but  according  to  their  reference  to  the 
needs  of  the  organism.  This  last  statement  involves 
some  important  pedagogical  corollaries  which  will  be 
discussed  in  the  following  chapter. 

nothing  more  than  taking  food  material  into  the  body.  But  just  as  no 
physiologist  would  think  of  dismissing  digestion  with  so  superficial  a 
definition,  so  a  psychologist  should  not  try  to  conceal  the  fact  that  the 
process  which  this  name  covers,  and  which  is  so  easily  described  as  to  its 
general  function,  is  one  that  is  most  complex  and  baffling  when  an  attempt 
is  made  to  analyze  it.  (Cf.  W.  James :  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology^ 
etc.,  New  York,  1899,  pp.  155-168,) 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Needs  of  the  Organism  as  determining 
Apperception:  Degrees  of  Apperception  and 
Apperceptive  Systems 

I.  Mind  interprets  impressions  from  the  outer  world, 
not  according  to  their  intrinsic  nature,  but  according 
to  their  relation  to  the  needs  of  the  organism.  These 
needs  may  be  roughly  grouped  into  two  great  classes: 
(a)  primitive  needs,  correlated  with  the  fundamental 
instincts  or  tendencies  that  man  has  inherited  from  his 
brute  and  savage  ancestry;  and  {h)  acquired  needs,  cor- 
related with  those  readjustments  and  modifications  of 
primitive  tendencies  that  have  been  made  necessary  by 
the  changed  conditions  of  human  life,  and  particularly 
by  the  growth  of  social  forces  as  opposed  to  individual 
forces. 

The  primitive  needs  can  be  reduced  to  one  or  the 
other  of  two  fundamental  types  of  instinct:  (a)  self-pres- 
ervation, and  (6)  race  perpetuation;  or,  more  briefly, 
the  food  instinct  and  the  sex  instinct.  When  the  former 
is  predominant,  sensations  that  inform  of  the  environ- 
ment are  interpreted  —  apperceived  —  with  reference 
to  self-preservation;   objects  of  the  external  world  appeal 

83 


84  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

to  one,  as  food,  shelter,  weapons,  etc.  When  the  lattei 
instinct  is  predominant,  one  interprets  objects  of  the 
outer  world  with  reference  to  the  sex  impulse  —  as 
decoration,  means  of  attraction,  etc. 

With  the  advance  of  social  organization,  however, 
these  primitive  needs,  represented  ultimately  by  one  or 
the  other  of  these  two  fundamental  instincts,  become 
more  and  more  remote,  more  and  more  overlaid  by 
intermediate  processes.  One  no  longer  apperceives  ob- 
jects with  reference  to  their  direct  bearing  upon  self- 
preservation  or  race  perpetuation.  One  no  longer  works 
for  the  immediate  gratification  of  desire  or  appetite. 
These  may  be  the  ultimate  driving  forces,  but  they  are 
frequently  lost  to  view  in  the  comphcation  of  the  pro- 
cesses that  intervene. 

2.  Degrees  of  Apperception.  Apperceptive  functions 
may,  therefore,  be  classed  into  (i)  those  of  low  degree, 
and  (2)  those  of  high  degree,  according  as  one  reads  a 
primitive  or  complex  meaning  into  sense  impressions. 
For  example :  the  apperception  of  a  teacup  as  a  missile 
to  be  hurled  at  a  supposed  enemy  is  an  apperception  of 
low  degree;  the  apperception  of  the  same  group  of  im- 
pressions (through  which  we  "know"  the  teacup)  as 
an  object  to  drink  from  is  an  apperception  of  a  higher 
degree;  while  the  apperception  of  a  teacup  as  an  object 
of  beauty  —  a  delicate  piece  of  bric-a-brac  —  is  an 
apperception  of  a  still  higher  degree.  In  every  case 
the  externally  aroused  sensations  that  inform  us  of  the 


DEGREES   OF   APPERCEPTION  B$ 

teacup  are  the  same;  but  in  every  case  we  read  a  dif- 
ferent meaning  into  these  sensations. 

The  patient  afflicted  with  apraxia  may  use  a  chait 
as  a  club  or  as  firewood.  This  means  that  his  higher 
apperceptive  functions  have  been  cut  away.  He  has 
been  reduced  to  the  plane  of  primitive  needs.  The 
normal  individual  uses  a  chair  to  sit  in;  he  apperceives 
it  with  reference  to  this  need,  which  is  obviously  of  a 
later  growth  than  the  use  of  an  object  as  a  club  or  weapon. 
But  the  antiquarian  may  see  the  same  chair  entirely  apart 
from  its  conventional  use;  he  may  apperceive  it  as  a 
representative  of  some  forgotten  craftsmanship  —  some 
"lost  art"  of  wood  carving,  perhaps. 

These  examples  may  serve  to  clear  up  the  significance 
of  the  terms  "primitive"  and  "acquired."  The  use 
of  objects  as  utensils  or  as  articles  of  furniture  is  not 
instinctive;  it  must  be  "learned."  And  it  goes  without 
saying  that  the  apperception  of  an  object  entirely  apart 
from  its  "utiUty"  is  a  product  not  of  heredity  but  of 
acquisition. 

3.  The  reactions  that  form  the  important  features  in 
apperceptions  of  low  degree  involve  the  larger  move- 
ments of  the  body.  Hurling  and  striking  are  crude 
movements :  the  muscles  that  are  brought  into  play  are 
the  more  fundamental,  the  more  deeply  seated;  the  co- 
ordinations are  few  and  comparatively  coarse.  Drink- 
ing from  a  cup,  however,  involves  movements  sHghtly 
more  delicate :   it  brings  into  play  smaller  and  less  fun- 


86  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

damental  muscles;  the  adjustments  are  more  complex 
and  require  a  greater  nicety  of  coordination.  Finally, 
when,  for  example,  one  admires  a  delicate,  fragile  piece 
of  bric-a-brac,  —  a  masterpiece  of  ceramic  art,  —  the 
motor  adjustments  and  coordinations  are  of  the  most 
refined  character.  To  one  whose  smaller  muscles  have 
had  no  training,  this  appreciation  is  impossible.  The 
keen  dehght  of  the  enthusiast  is  conditioned  by  a  highly 
organized  nervous  system.  To  the  child,  to  the  savage, 
to  the  boor,  these  refinements  of  art  are  meaningless. 
He  cannot  apperceive  because  the  complex  and  highly 
organized  system  of  associations  and  reactions  that 
means  apperception  is  lacking. 

Degrees  of  apperception  do  not  seem  to  have  been  recog- 
nized by  the  Herbartian  writers,  who  have  made  the  most 
exhaustive  analyses  of  the  general  process.  Herbart^  himself 
ascribes  the  difference  between  the  apperception  of  the  child 
and  that  of  the  adult  to  a  lack  of  experience  upon  the  part  of 
the  former.  He  states  the  law :  "  Apperception  is  the  less 
probable  the  more  meager  the  experience  of  the  individual. 
Children  and  uncultured  men  apperceive  but  little,  because 
there  is  lacking  in  them  a  mass  of  apperceiving  ideas." 

It  is,  however,  a  mistake  to  assume  that  children  and  uncul- 
tured men  apperceive  little.  They  may  apperceive  as  much  as 
the  cultured  adult,  but  they  apperceive  in  a  different  way  —  on 
a  lower  level.  They  "see  things"  in  the  light  of  their  own 
simple,  primitive  needs,  not  in  the  light  of  the  acquired  and 
highly  complex  needs  of  the  adult.  They  read  into  sense 
impressions  a  primitive,  uncultured  meaning. 

1  J.  F,  Herbart :  Psychologie  ah  IVissenschafi,  pt.  ii,  p.  197,  in  Har 
tenstein's  edition,  Sammtliche  Werke,  Leipzig,  1850,  Bd.  v. 


DEGREES   OF  APPERCEPTION  87 

4.  Apperceptive  Systems.  The  mental  disturbance 
known  as  apraxia  has  been  cited  to  illustrate  degrees  of 
apperception.  Another  characteristic  of  the  appercep- 
tive process  is  revealed  in  a  related  mental  disturbance, 
sensory  aphasia.  This  disease  is  similar  to  apraxia, 
except  that  the  loss  of  meaning  affects  words  rather 
than  objects.  When  one  loses  the  capacity  to  interpret 
spoken  words,  the  affliction  is  termed  "auditory  aphasia" ; 
when  the  capacity  to  interpret  written  or  printed  words 
is  disturbed,  the  affliction  is  known  as  "visual  aphasia." 
The  two  forms  together  constitute  sensory  aphasia  — 
a  genus,  as  it  were,  of  which  the  others  are  species. 
In  either  auditory  or  visual  aphasia  there  need  be  no 
disturbance  of  hearing  or  vision  as  such.  The  patient 
hears  the  word,  but  it  is  simply  a  complex  of  meaning- 
less sounds ;  he  sees  the  word,  but  it  is  merely  a  jumble 
of  marks  upon  a  white  page.  The  significance  that 
years  of  experience  have  put  into  these  sensations  has 
been  cut  away.  But,  at  the  same  time,  the  meaning  of 
auditory  and  visual  impressions  not  connected  with  lan- 
guage is  not  necessarily  lost.  The  patient  may  recognize 
objects  of  everyday  use  in  a  normal  fashion;  he  may 
recognize  sounds  other  than  those  connected  with  speech, 
and  react  appropriately  to  them. 

That  sensory  aphasia  is  really  a  disturbance  of  apper- 
ception is  clearly  brought  out  by  a  case  of  the  visual 
variety  described   by   D^jerine.-^    A    merchant   lost   the 

1  Cited  by  J.  Collins :    The  Faculty  of  Speech,  pp.  262  f. 


88  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

ability  to  put  meaning  into  printed  or  written  words  and 
sentences  —  the  ability  to  read.  At  the  same  time,  how- 
ever, he  found  no  difl&culty  in  recognizing  letters  that 
he  used  arbitrarily  as  price  marks  on  his  goods.  That  is, 
the  very  same  sense  contents  —  letters  —  were  full  of 
meaning  to  him  in  one  phase  of  his  life  (selling  goods), 
but  utterly  devoid  of  meaning  in  another  phase  (reading). 
Put  in  a  more  general  way,  this  means  that  the  same 
complex  of  sensations  means  different  things  to  the  same 
individual  at  different  times. 

To-day  I  meet  my  students  in  their  classes ;  to-night  I  meet 
the  same  students  at  a  social  gathering.  They  are  the  same 
individuals,  but  my  attitude  toward  them  has  changed.  I  quiz 
them  in  their  classes  in  a  manner  that  would  stamp  me  as  a 
bore  if  I  did  it  at  a  social  gathering.  This  morning  I  dissect 
calves'  brains  at  the  laboratory ;  at  noon  I  have  calves'  brains 
served  up  for  lunch.  The  brains  are  similar,  but  my  attitude 
toward  them  has  changed.  The  physician  meets  a  patient  in 
his  office.  As  a  physician,  he  looks  upon  the  patient  in  a  pro- 
fessional light.  He  inquires  into  the  workings  of  his  heart,  his 
lungs,  his  digestive  tract.  The  patient  is  to  him  a  bundle  of 
tissues,  and  it  is  the  physician's  business  to  see  that  these  tis- 
sues work  together  harmoniously.  Two  hours  later  the  same 
physician  meets  the  same  patient  socially.  The  professional 
attitude  is  no  longer  prominent.  The  patient  is  a  friend  to 
be  amused  with  an  anecdote,  or  he  is  a  rival  at  billiards,  or  he 
is,  perhaps,  a  competitor  for  feminine  preference.  And  yet, 
intrinsically  speaking,  the  patient  is  no  less  a  bundle  of  tissues 
than  he  was  earlier  in  the  day.  He  is  the  same  patient,  and 
the  physician  knows  him  through  the  same  sense  complexes, 
but  the  "  meaning "  that  the  patient  has  for  the  physician  is 
quite  different. 


DEGREES   OF    APPERCEPTION  89 

The  tendencies  to  reaction,  therefore,  —  whether  in- 
herited or  acquired,  —  come  to  be  systematized,  grouped 
together,  with  reference  to  large  functions  of  life.^  One 
has  different  attitudes  toward  things,  —  a  professional  at- 
titude, a  social  attitude,  a  work  attitude,  a  play  attitude, 
etc.  According  as  one  has  one  or  another  of  these  atti- 
tudes, one  interprets  sensations  in  this  way  or  that.  A 
group  of  systematized  tendencies  to  reaction  is  termed 
an  "  apperceptive  system."  Each  system  represents  an 
adjustment  to  a  phase  of  the  environment,  which  adjustment 
is  constant  with  us  while  we  are  in  a  certain  m^od.  A 
system  may  therefore  be  of  high  or  low  degree,  according 
as  it  refers  to  a  primitive  or  a  highly  developed  need  of 
the  individual.  The  apperceptive  system  that  is  operative 
when  the  physician  sees  in  his  patient  only  a  bundle  of 
tissues  and  that  which  is  operative  when  he  sees  in  the 
same  patient  a  social  equal  are  both  systems  of  relatively 
high  degree;  but  the  system  that  operates  when  I  look 
upon  a  calf's  brain  as  an  intricately  comphcated  organ 
for  controlling  action  is  higher  than  that  by  which  I 
apperceive  a  similar  brain  as  an  article  of  food. 

The  tendency,  of  course,  is  for  one  to  get  into  a  "rut" 
with  advancing  years.  This  means  that  a  single  large 
apperceptive  system  comes  to  function  practically  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  others.  I  should  indeed  be  fortunate  if 
I  could  lose  entirely  my  attitude  as  teacher  when  I  meet 
my  students  socially.     The  physician  would  be  equally 

*  Cf.  G.  F.  Stout :  Groundwork  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1903,  pp.  7-9. 


90  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

fortunate  if  he  could  drop  entirely  his  professional  atti- 
tude when  he  meets  his  patients  socially.  The  abihty 
thus  to  change  one's  larger  apperceptive  systems  as  one 
changes  one's  coat  varies  with  different  individuals  and 
at  different  ages.  The  child  in  his  play  adjustments 
represents,  perhaps,  the  maximal  plasticity  of  appercep- 
tive systems.  "Let's  play  house.  Let's  pretend  that 
this  stone  is  a  table ! "  Straightway  the  stone  becomes 
a  table,  only  to  be  changed  a  half  hour  later  into  a  stove, 
a  store,  a  steamboat,  or  a  wagon.^  To  the  adult  the 
stone  is  now  perhaps  a  representative  of  some  geological 
stratum;  again,  it  may  be  material  for  a  good  horse 
block;  again,  a  sample  of  excellent  building  material. 
But  the  chances  are  that,  according  as  the  adult  is  a  geol- 
ogist, a  horseman,  or  an  architect,  one  or  another  of  these 
apperceptive  systems  will  overshadow  all  the  others.  The 
merchant  cited  by  D^jerine  was  undoubtedly  more  a 
merchant  than  a  man  of  letters.  The  apperceptive 
system  that  represented  his  commercial  activities  was, 
comparatively  speaking,  fundamental  in  his  life.  Con- 
sequently, when  disintegration  set  in,  it  failed  to  affect 
that  part  of  his  experience. 

5.  Both  heredity  and  experience  have  a  share  in  deter- 
mining the  structure  of  the  larger  apperceptive  systems. 

^  The  larger  systems  of  apperception  are  well  illustrated  by  the  different 
attitudes  of  children,  which  in  turn  are  manifested  by  entirely  distinct 
vocabularies.  The  boy  has  one  set  of  words  and  constructions  which  he 
uses  with  his  playmates  and  another  set  for  the  schoolroom.  He  never 
confuses  the  two. 


DEGREES    OF   APPERCEPTION  9! 

Every  individual  inherits  certain  peculiarities  of  nervous 
structure  that  manifest  themselves  in  certain  tendencies 
to  reaction.  One  person  is  slow  and  deliberate,  anothel 
quick  and  impetuous,  another  morose  and  brooding, 
another  gay  and  cheerful.  These  "predispositions'* 
to  reaction  obviously  have  an  important  influence  upon 
the  way  in  which  one  "looks  at  things."  It  is  common 
to  speak  of  the  dyspeptic  as  viewing  the  world  through 
blue  spectacles.  His  dyspepsia  may  be  due  to  inherited 
tendencies,  but  it  may,  just  as  certainly,  be  due  to  envi- 
ronmental forces.  And  so  it  is  with  all  cases  of  tem- 
perament or  mood.  One  cannot  draw  a  line  accurately 
between  the  influences  of  heredity  and  the  influences  of 
experience.  But  here,  as  elsewhere,  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  the  latter  is  by  far  the  more  important  factor.  In 
either  case  some  force  has  been  at  work  to  give  the 
nervous  structure  a  peculiar  bent. 

This  is  what  Professor  Titchener  ^  refers  to  when  he 
defines  apperception  as  a  "  perception  whose  character  is 
determined  wholly  or  chiefly  by  the  pecuhar  tendencies 
of  a  nervous  system  rather  than  by  the  nature  of  the 
thing  perceived."  Needless  to  say,  the  great  bulk  of  one's 
perceptions  are  determined  in  this  way.  This  fact  is 
impressed  more  forcibly  when  one  remembers  that  the 
pecuHar  tendencies  provided  for  by  heredity  are,  dur- 
ing the  process  of  growth,  supplemented  in  far  greater 
number    by  the   peculiar   tendencies   due    to   modifica- 

*  E.  B.  Titchener:  A  Primer  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1899,  p.  88. 


92  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

tions  of  nerve  structure   through    experience   with   thft 
environment. 

It  is  this  condition  that  renders  it  so  difficult  to  eliminate 
the  "personal  equation"  from  scientific  observation.  So  com- 
pletely are  our  perceptions  colored  by  the  hues  and  tints  of  our 
peculiar  apperceptive  systems,  that  only  by  the  most  strenuous 
effort  are  we  enabled  to  separate  in  any  act  of  observation  what 
we  really  see  firom  what  we  "  think  "  we  see. 

6.  Apperceptive  systems  of  low  degree  are  most  pro- 
foundly influenced  by  inherited  tendencies.  Self-pres- 
ervation is  the  first  law  of  nature.  Race  perpetuation 
might  analogously  be  called  the  second  law  of  nature. 
These  fundamental  instincts  He  at  the  basis  of  primitive 
apperceptions;  but  these  primitive  systems  come,  in 
course  of  time,  to  be  overlaid  with,  and  modified  by, 
others  of  higher  degree.  Experience  is  elaborated  by 
the  exigencies  of  a  complex  social  environment.  The 
relation  of  our  surroundings  to  our  individual  existence 
is  determined  by  social  forms  and  usages  that  all  but 
rob  life  of  its  primitive  significance.  Yet  the  "all  but 
rob"  is  a  saving  clause.  Directly  or  remotely,  the  manner 
in  which  mind  interprets  or  apperceives  new  impressions 
is  determined  by  the  relation  that  these  impressions  bear 
to  the  existence  and  survival  of  the  organism.  It  is  a 
maxim  of  pedagogy  that  apperception  functions  most 
readily  along  the  lines  of  interest.  Interest  attaches 
most  strongly  to  that  which  has  a  vital  relation  to  one's 
v/ell-being.     But   in   a   social   environment,   one's   well- 


DEGREES    OF    APPERCEPTION  93 

being  is  determined  by  factors  far  different  from  those 
that  operate  in  a  purely  "natural"  environment. 

Civilization  means  an  overlaying  of  selfish  impulses 
with  impulses  of  a  social  nature ;  ^  in  such  a  way,  how- 
ever, that  the  former  are  not  entirely  eradicated,  but 
rather  chastened  and  subdued  in  the  light  of  reason. 
And  so  the  business  of  the  school  is  to  overlay  the  lower 
apperceptive  systems  with  those  of  higher  degree; 
but  the  school  must  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the 
well-being  of  the  individual  always  lies,  directly  or  re- 
motely, at  the  basis  of  dominant  motives.  The  well- 
being  of  the  individual  finds  its  subjective  counterpart 
in  pleasure.  But  there  are  pleasures  of  a  high  order 
and  of  a  low  order.  The  essence  of  civilization  is  that 
remote  and  not  immediate  pleasures  govern  conduct; 
remote  and  not  immediate  ends  determine  action.  And 
the  capacity  of  man  to  govern  his  conduct  by  remote 
ends  depends  entirely  upon  a  process  0}  education.  This 
proposition  will  be  the  thesis  of  the  next  chapter. 

^  Mr.  Hobhouse  takes  a  different  view  of  this  matter.  "  The  concep- 
tion of  a  primitive  egoism  on  which  sociability  is  somehow  overlaid  is 
without  foundation  either  in  biology  or  in  psychology.  .  ,  .  For  the  im- 
pulses of  sex  and  provision  for  the  young,  if  not  unselfish,  at  least  do  not 
tend  to  self-maintenance."  (^Mindin  Evolution,  London,  1901,  pp.  339  f.) 
It  is  certainly  true,  as  Mr.  Hobhouse  says,  that  the  parental  and  sexual 
impulses  make  for  the  preservation  of  the  race,  but  it  is  none  the  less  true 
that  subjectively  the  working  out  of  these  instincts  satisfies  an  immediatt 
and  individual  desire.  The  racial  or  altruistic  implication  is,  after  all, 
only  an  implication,  as  the  same  writer  so  clearly  points  out  in  a  later 
chapter  (ch.  xvii),  and  the  task  of  civilization,  as  he  himself  states  it,  is  ta 
make  this  implied  or  unconscious  altruism  explicit  or  conscious. 


94  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

7.  Thus  far  the  term  "  apperceptive  system  "  has  been 
used  to  cover  a  group  of  tendencies  that  determine  the 
meaning  or  significance  that  is  read  into  any  given  com- 
plex of  sense  impressions.  The  individual's  "moods" 
and  "attitudes"  constitute  "large"  apperceptive  systems. 
These  may  be  conditioned  either  by  heredity  or  by  envi- 
ronment, but  the  latter  factor  is  by  far  the  more  impor- 
tant. In  general,  then,  the  majority  of  the  apperceptive 
systems  that  operate  in  the  normal  individual  may  be 
looked  upon  as  resultants  of  a  vast  number  of  experi- 
ences or,  briefly,  as  condensed  experiences.  The  "large" 
apperceptive  systems  that  have  been  mentioned  consti- 
tute only  a  specific  class.  Whenever  one  has  a  number 
of  experiences  that  have  been  condensed  and  systema- 
tized, one  has  an  apperceptive  system.  It  may  be 
large  or  small,  according  to  the  variety  and  scope  of  the 
experiences  that  it  covers,  but  in  either  case  it  fulfills 
an  important  function  in  the  economy  of  mental  life,  as 
will  be  shown  in  a  later  section. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Attention,  Interest,  and  Will  in  the  Light  or 
Apperception:    the   Doctrine   of  Work 

I.  The  following  conclusions  result  from  the  devel- 
opment of  the  last  two  chapters:  (i)  In  the  beginning, 
experiences  are  assimilated  with  reference  to  the  primi- 
tive needs  of  the  organism,  such  needs  being  represented 
by  the  instincts.  (2)  As  development  continues,  the 
primitive  needs  come  to  be  overshadowed  by  acquired 
needs;  these  are  represented  by  outgrowths  of  instinct 
due  to  the  modifying  operation  of  experience ;  thus  expe- 
riences may  be  said  to  grow  upon  themselves  —  once 
grafted  upon  instincts,  they  assimilate  one  another. 
(3)  With  continued  development,  fairly  constant  systems 
of  experience  come  to  be  organized  to  which  new  expe- 
riences are  referred.  (4)  Assimilation  with  reference 
to  a  primitive  instinct  is  an  apperception  of  low  degree; 
assimilation  with  reference  to  an  acquired  need  is  an 
apperception  of  higher  degree  —  the  higher,  the  more 
remote  is  the  need  from  the  primitive  instinct.  (5)  The 
business  of  education  is  to  replace  the  lower  apper- 
ceptive systems  with  those  of  higher  degree  —  to  develop 
the  higher  needs  and  cater  to  them.    The  task  of  the 

95 


96  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

present  chapter  is  to  show  that  the  higher  needs  can  b« 
developed  only  through  a  process  of  education.  To  this 
end  it  will  first  be  necessary  to  examine  the  relations 
that  exist  between  apperception  and  attention. 

2.  Attention  is  best  described  as  a  state  of  conscious- 
ness that  presents  a  focus  and  a  margin.^  One  group 
of  ideas  or  perceptions  occupies  the  focus  of  conscious- 
ness for  the  time  being  as  the  thing  "attended  to";  the 
remaim'ng  components  of  consciousness  are  relatively 
vague  and  indistinct  ideas  or  perceptions,  grouped  about 
the  central  or  focal  idea.^ 

In  listening  to  an  orchestral  selection,  for  example,  the  per- 
ceptions of  timbre,  interval,  rhythm,  etc.,  occupy  the  focus  of 
consciousness.  Grouped  about  this  focal  complex  are  various 
other  elements :  visual  data  concerning  the  players  and  their 
instruments;  touch  and  kinaesthetic  data  concerning  the  posi- 
tion of  the  body,  pressure  of  the  clothing,  and  the  like ;  thermal 
data  concerning  the  temperature  of  the  room ;  and  all  these 
mingled  with  ideas,  the  residua  of  past  experiences,  reawakened 
by  the  music,  or  by  other  of  these  data. 

3.  There  are  four  important  differences  between  the 
marginal  and  focal  constituents  of  consciousness:  {a)  the 
focal  idea  or  perception  is  the  clearer;  (6)  it  is  the  more 
enduring;    {c)   it  is  the  more  easily  revived;   and  {d)  it 

1  Cf.  O.  Kiilpe :  Outlines  of  Psychology,  trans.  Titchener,  London,  1895, 
pp.  423  ff. 

2  It  is  generally  agreed  by  psychologists  that  but  one  datum  of  con- 
sciousness can  occupy  the  focus  of  the  conscious  field  at  a  given  instant  of 
time.  For  the  results  of  a  careful  analysis  of  the  literature  upon  this 
point,  see  J.  P.  Hylan,  "  The  Distribution  of  Attention,"  in  Psychological 
Review,  1903,  vol.  x,  pp.  373-403,  498-534- 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   WORK  97 

is  the  more  associable.  It  follows  from  this  that  a  con- 
scious process  is  valuable  to  an  organism  because  of  atten- 
tion to  that  process;  for  the  fact  that  the  process  attended 
to  is  clear,  enduring,  revivable,  and  associable  means 
that  it  will  function  more  readily  in  later  adjustments, 
and  this  is  the  characteristic  that  gives  to  conscious- 
ness its  value  in  the  life  process.  Therefore  an  answer 
to  the  question,  "How  does  an  idea  or  perception  get 
into  the  focus  of  consciousness?"  will  form  a  very  impor- 
tant part  of  the  answer  to  the  more  general  question, 
"How  are  experiences  acquired?"  The  conditions  of 
focalization  are  thoroughly  discussed  by  text-books  and 
treatises  on  psychology  and  need  be  only  briefly  referred 
to  at  this  point.^ 

4.  (a)  Passive  Attention.  There  are  certain  impres- 
sions to  which  attention  is  involuntarily  or  spontaneously 
directed.  One  attends  "naturally"  to  intense  stimuli 
of  all  kinds,  —  to  loud  noises,  bright  Hghts,  sharp  pains, 
etc.;  one  attends  naturally  to  movement;  one  attends 
naturally  to  contrasts.  The  tendency  to  focahze  such 
stimuli  is  inborn  or  innate.  It  is  to  be  classed  among 
the  inherited  tendencies  of  the  nervous  system  which 
were  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter.     "In  the  order  of 

1  The  classification  of  the  forms  of  attention  that  follows  is  based  upon 
that  presented  by  Professor  Titchener,  in  his  Primer  of  Psychology,  New 
York,  1899,  ch.  v.  As  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  it  possesses  certain  ad- 
vantages over  a  twofold  division.  A  fourfold  division,  based  upon  a 
similar  principle,  is  presented  by  Mr.  Stout.  {^Groundwork  of  Psychology^ 
ch.  vi.) 

u 


98  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

nature,"  says  Professor  Brooks,  "each  stimulus  is  a  sign 
with  a  significance."  In  the  early  history  pf  mind, 
strong  stimuli  were  danger  signals,  and  the  animal's 
survival  was  conditioned  upon  its  ability  to  notice  them 
and  react  appropriately  to  them.  Hence  the  forms  pos- 
sessing this  capacity  were  "naturally  selected"  to  sur- 
vive. To-day  this  capacity  is  not  significant  to  survival 
in  so  high  a  degree;  yet  it  still  persists,  subdued  and 
overlaid  in  the  course  of  experience  by  other  tendencies, 
but  still  cropping  out  at  frequent  intervals. 

The  tendency  to  follow  movement  is  typical  of  all  forms  of 
passive  attention.  Whenever  a  moving  object  stimulates  the 
periphery  of  the  retina,  —  that  is,  when  one  sees  movement  out 
in  the  margin  of  the  visual  field  with  the  "  tail  of  the  eye,"  — 
the  tendency  is  always  to  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  moving 
object.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that  a  very  slight  movement  can 
be  perceived  with  the  non-foveal  portions  of  the  retina  when  it 
cannot  be  perceived  in  direct  vision  —  that  is,  by  looking  di- 
rectly, focally,  at  the  moving  object.^  It  is  easy  to  see  how  this 
capacity  came  to  be  selected  in  the  process  of  evolution.  The 
animal  that  could  perceive  its  enemies  creeping  up  from  the 
side,  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  appeared  to  be  looking  "  straight 
ahead,"  would  have  an  obvious  advantage  in  the  struggle  for 
existence.  The  capacity  is,  however,  practically  without  signifi- 
cance to-day.  The  astronomer,  it  is  true,  makes  use  of  it  in 
observing  the  entrance  of  a  star  into  the  field  of  telescopic 
vision,  because  he  has  found  by  experience  that  his  observations 
are  more  accurate  if  he  uses  the  outlying  portions  of  the  retina 
rather  than  the  fovea.    But  with  the  average  man,  living  under 

1  Cf.  some  interesting  conclusions  regarding  the  functional  differences 
between  focal  and  marginal  vision  in  perception  of  motion,  R.  Dodge,  in 
Psychological  RevieWf  1904,  N.  S.,  vol.  xi,  pp.  1-14. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF    WORK  99 

the  conditions  of  civilized  society,  the  capacity  is  merely  a 
"  vestigial  organ  "  of  the  mind,  the  useless  remnant  of  a  once- 
significant  function,  —  except,  perhaps,  in  the  congested  districts 
of  the  large  cities,  where  pedestrianism  is  perilous. 

5.  (b)  Active  Attention.  But  if  one  had  always  to 
follow  the  strongest  external  stimulus,  —  if  the  strongest 
stimulus  always  forced  itself  into  the  focus  of  conscious- 
ness, —  one  would  be  Uterally  at  the  mercy  of  the  envi- 
ronment. Sustained  eflfort  and  all  that  it  implies  would 
be  hopelessly  out  of  the  question.  It  is  well,  then,  that  in 
the  development  of  social  Ufe,  these  distracting  stimuli 
have  come  less  and  less  to  mean  danger  to  the  organism ; 
hence  the  importance  of  attending  to  them  has  come 
gradually  to  be  reduced.  At  the  same  time,  social  devel- 
opment has  demanded  that  the  individual  govern  his 
action  with  reference  to  remote  rather  than  immediate 
ends.  This  means  that  present  stimuli  must  be  neglected 
in  order  that  past  experiences  may  be  revived,  and  the 
relation  between  past  experience  and  present  or  future 
situations  adequately  determined. 

With  the  diminution  in  value  of  the  strong  stimuh, 
therefore,  there  comes  an  enhancement  in  value  of  ideas 
and  weaker  stimuli,^  due  to  the  exigencies  of  social  Hfe. 
But  the  older  conditions  always  operate  in  greater  or 
less  degree.  Just  as  the  primitive  impulses  given  through 
heredity  cannot  be  entirely  eliminated;   and  just  as  self- 

*  We  still  follow  the  strongest  stimulus,  but  not  the  strongest  external 
stimulus.    Ideas  and  weak  external  stimuli  become  reenforced  from  withiiL 


lOO  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

preservation  is  still  the  first  law  of  nature,  even  in  thi 
most  highly  organized  societies;  so  the  intense,  the  mov- 
ing and  the  contrasting  stimuH  from  the  outer  world 
always  tend  to  distract  the  mind  from  other  processes. 
This  tendency  expresses  itself  in  movement  which  must 
be  inhibited  or  checked.  Thus  originates  the  ejjort  that 
characterizes  this  later  development  of  attention.  It  is 
always  a  battle  as  it  were  against  nature  —  a  constant 
struggle  against  fundamental  forces. 

6.  (c)  Secondary  Passive  Attention.  But  if  attention 
to  the  important  things  of  social  life,  and  inattention 
to  those  danger  signals  that  meant  so  much  to  primitive 
hfe,  always  involved  a  struggle,  the  chances  for  advance- 
ment would  be  greatly  curtailed.  To  be  maximally 
efiicient,  mind  must  devote  all  its  energy  to  the  task  in 
hand.  When  part  of  this  energy  is  used  up  in  resist- 
ing distracting  stimuli,  efficiency  must  be  seriously  inter- 
fered with.  Hence  it  is  fortunate  that  active  attention 
may  work  over  into  the  passive  form  —  that  ideas  and 
weaker  stimuli,  at  first  attended  to  only  through  strenu- 
ous effort,  come  to  be  attended  to  without  appreciable 
effort.  This  "secondary  passive  attention"  is  identical 
with  the  primary  passive  form  as  far  as  its  immediate 
conscious  effects  are  concerned,  but  it  differs  from  the 
latter  in  its  genesis.  It  is  not  the  result  of  inherited 
or  instinctive  tendencies,  but  is  rather  to  be  looked  upon 
as  an  acquired  art,  and  furthermore  as  an  art  that  can  he 
acquired  only  through  a  period  oj  active  attention  or  effort. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   WORK  'lOI 

7.  Work  and  Play.  In  this  distinction  between,  pas- 
sive, active,  and  secondary  passive  attention  are  revealed 
the  psychological  principles  that  differentiate  work 
from  play.  Both  work  and  play  are  forms  of  activity, 
but  work  means  activity  directed  toward  a  remote  end, 
while  in  play  the  activity  is  an  end  in  itself.  The  mind 
is  constantly  open  to  distractions  —  it  always  tends  to 
follow  the  lines  of  least  effort.  And  because  it  is  so  dif- 
ficult to  resist  distractions,  the  capacity  for  work  is  gen- 
erally conceded  to  be  the  greatest  conquest  that  man 
has  made  in  his  rise  from  the  brute.  One  of  the  first 
signs  of  a  return  to  ancestral  conditions  —  of  a  "  rever- 
sion to  type"  — is  the  incapacity  for  sustained  effort  —  for 
active  attention.  This  tendency  to  revert  to  type  is 
latent  in  all  men.  It  finds  expression  in  the  love  for 
change,  the  desire  —  sometimes  overwhelming  —  to  do 
"something  else." 

There  are  those  who  work  and  work  well  with  a  variety  of 
conflicting  and  intense  stimuli  pressing  in  upon  them  from  all 
sides. ^  But  this  habituation  to  distracting  influences  comes 
only  after  a  long  and  tedious  process  of  discipline  and  training ; 
and  it  is  seriously  to  be  doubted  whether  the  worker  ever  does 
his  best  under  such  conditions.  Normally  our  minds  are  so 
sensitized  that  one  who  lives  "  in  the  midst  of  alarms  "  almost 
necessarily  "  burns  the  candle  at  both  ends.  " 

But  apart  from  those  who  are  adapted  to  this  overplus  of 
distraction,  there  are  others  who  are  veritable  slaves  of  dis- 
tracting influences.  To  them  quiet  and  seclusion  are  irksome 
and  laborious,  and  the  occupations  that  involve  the  absence  of 

^  A  sligki  distraction  is  probably  essential  to  the  best  work. 


102,   ^  •  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

frequent  distractions  become  tedious  and  unbearable.  The 
love  of  change  which  is  sporadic  and  occasional  in  the  average 
man  is  normal  with  them.  Such  individuals  may  be  capable 
almost  to  the  point  of  genius,  but  the  incapacity  for  sustained  ef- 
fort renders  their  exceptional  gifts  almost  entirely  without  value. 
In  short,  the  abnormal  liking  for  change  and  variety,  for  "life" 
and  noise,  for  the  excitements  of  the  theater,  the  race  track,  and 
the  gaming-table,  is  unmistakable  evidence,  either  of  arrested 
development,  or  of  decay  and  degeneration.  It  is  something 
that  grows  upon  itself;  idleness  begets  idleness.  At  best  the 
supports  that  hold  the  race  to  the  plane  of  civilization  are  frail 
and  insecure  enough.  Release  the  tension  ever  so  little,  and 
the  entire  structure  topples  to  the  ground.  How  hard  it  is  to 
be  civilized  and  how  easy  it  is  to  be  primitive  and  brutal  is 
only  thoroughly  appreciated  by  those  who  have  slipped  from 
the  plane  of  humanity  and  are  painfully  struggling  to  climb 
back. 

It  is  in  times  of  material  prosperity  that  this  danger  is  most 
strenuously  to  be  combated ;  for  it  is  then  that  the  innate  desire 
for  distraction  most  easily  finds  an  outlet.  The  sophistries  of 
ease  and  comfort  then  most  readily  eat  their  way  into  the  popu- 
lar mind,  catering  to  the  love  of  change,  the  appetite  for 
distraction,  the  enervating  influences  of  dissipation  and  prodi- 
gality. This  is,  perhaps,  why  one  finds  in  history  that  the 
seeds  of  national  decay  have  frequently  been  sown  in  eras  of 
great  prosperity.* 

8.  The  capacity  for  work  is  the  capacity  for  sustained 
efifort.     It  means  concentration,  organization,  and  per- 

^  It  may  be  urged  that  civilization  owes  not  a  little  to  the  restless  spirits 
of  all  ages.  But  the  really  great  names  of  discovery  and  exploration  and 
early  settlement  were  borne  by  men  of  another  type,  —  men  to  whom  the 
pleasure  and  excitement  of  novel  scenes  and  strange  adventures  were  but 
incidental  to  the  strenuous  accomplishment  of  a  set  purpose. 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF   WORK  103 

manency  of  purpose.  The  intense  desire  for  activity 
is  not  in  itself  sufficient.  Children  and  savages  possess 
this  in  great  abundance.  Not  activity  alone,  but  sus- 
tained and  directed  activity  has  been  the  keynote  of 
human  progress.  Individually  it  expresses  itself  in  unre- 
mitting effort  toward  the  attainment  of  a  far-off  goal. 
Psychologically  it  means  the  subordination  of  inherited 
impulses  to  remote  ends.  In  popular  language,  it  is  the 
expression  of  "will  power"  or  "self-control."  The  man 
with  a  "strong  will"  is  the  man  who  can  subordinate 
"lower"  to  "higher"  motives;  and  lower  and  higher 
are  genetically  correlated  with  the  immediate  and  the 
remote,  with  instinct  and  reason. 

"Active  attention"  and  "will"  may,  therefore,  for 
our  purposes,  be  looked  upon  as  synonymous  terms. 
Vohtional  effort  is  a  struggle  against  desire  —  gener- 
ally speaking,  a  struggle  against  instinct,  against  an 
impulse  of  a  lower  order.  It  has,  however,  a  positive 
significance.  The  natural  tendency  may  sometimes  be 
to  react  in  the  primitive  instinctive  fashion,  and  this 
tendency  must  frequently  be  inhibited  or  controlled; 
but  perhaps  it  is  oftener  the  case  that  the  desire  for  inac- 
tion must  be  overcome.  That  is,  while  the  desire  to 
do  "something  else"  is  always  at  least  latent,  the  desire 
to  do  nothing  at  all  is  perhaps  more  frequently  in 
evidence.  Active  attention  is  no  less  a  battle  against 
"laziness"  than  against  "indolence,"  and  this  becomes 
increasingly    true    with  advancing  years.     Children  are 


I04  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

seldom  "lazy,"  but  they  are  normally  and  constitu 
tionally  "indolent."  In  other  words,  they  are  not  inac- 
tive, —  activity  indeed  may  be  called  the  first  law  of 
child  nature,  —  but  they  are  averse  to  continued  effort 
along  a  given  line;  they  abhor  monotony.  The  adult, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  more  frequently  "lazy"  or  desirous 
of  inaction. 

An  "act  of  wiU"  is  a  condition  of  attention  in  which 
the  struggle  against  the  lower  tendencies  or  impulses 
is  especially  strenuous.  In  ordinary  life,  the  social 
or  moral  {i.e.  artificial  or  civilized)  conduct  becomes 
ingrained  as  habit  —  becomes  "second  nature."  This 
is  what  Ribot^  means  when  he  says  that  the  lower  ten- 
dencies are  always  the  stronger  by  "nature,"  while  the 
higher  tendencies  are  sometimes  the  stronger  by  "art." 
It  is  only  another  way  of  stating  the  difference,  already 
noted,  between  primitive  and  acquired  needs,  between 
apperceptive  systems  of  low  and  high  degree.  But 
always  the  tendency  to  follow  the  fines  of  least  effort 
—  either  to  react  in  the  natural  or  inherited  fashion 
or  to  remain  inert  —  is  at  least  latent.  When  this  ten- 
dency becomes  so  strong  as  to  demand  a  conscious 
struggle  between  apperceptive  systems,  we  have  the  voli- 
tional consciousness. 

9.  From  the  above  analysis,  it  is  apparent  that  the 
terms  "apperception"  and  "attention"  simply  indicate 
two  aspects  or  phases  of  one  and  the  same  phenomenon. 

^  Th.  Ribot :  Diseases  of  the  Will,  Chicago,  1894,  p.  50  (English  trans.). 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   WORK  lOj 

Attention  is  a  structural  term;  it  describes  a  certain 
state  or  pattern  that  consciousness  may  assume.  Apper- 
ception is  a  functional  term;  it  describes  what  mind 
does  when  it  is  in  the  attentive  state  —  and  what  it  does 
is  to  assimilate  experience,  to  read  "leaning  into  sense 
impressions,  to  bring  perceptions  and  ideas  into  rela- 
,tion  with  the  needs  of  life. 

In  passive  attention,  the  processes  upon  which  atten- 
tion is  focalized  are  "  apperceived "  with  reference  to 
primitive  needs;  passive  attention,  in  other  words, 
means  an  apperception  of  low  degree.  In  active  atten- 
tion, there  is  a  struggle  to  lose  sight  of  the  primitive 
needs  and  to  apperceive  with  reference  to  the  higher 
needs;  but  the  primitive  needs  still  solicit  attention, 
hence  the  effort  and  struggle  that  are  necessary  in  order 
to  keep  them  down.  In  secondary  passive  attention, 
the  struggle  is  no  longer  present.  The  primitive  need 
has  been  conquered  and  the  remote  need  has  taken 
its  place. 

lo.  Systems  of  apperception  are  represented  struc- 
turally by  the  "marginal"  constituents  of  the  attentive 
state.  While  he  is  in  the  professional  attitude,  the  phy- 
sician has  a  certain  adjustment  toward  his  patient  which 
is  represented  by  a  definite  tension  of  the  muscles.  This 
tension,  in  turn,  is  reported  to  consciousness  through 
the  sensations  of  strain.  These  are  fairly  constant  as 
far  as  the  professional  attitude  of  the  physician  is 
concerned.      But    because   they    are    constant   in    innu- 


I06  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

merable  cases,  they  are  gradually  relegated  to  the 
background,  to  the  margin  of  consciousness.  Othef 
marginal  features  doubtless  contribute  to  this  appercep- 
tive system  —  the  suggestive  apparatus  of  the  office,  the 
odors  of  drugs,  etc.  But  the  important  elements  are  the 
muscular  and  strain  sensations.^ 

II.  The  doctrine  of  apperception,  with  its  impUca- 
tions  concerning  attention  and  will,  goes  far  toward 
clearing  up  the  problem  of  interest,  recently  so  vigor- 
ously discussed  in  educational  circles.^    As  stated  above, 

1  While  the  intimate  connection  between  apperception  and  attention  has 
been  recognized  by  several  authorities, —  among  them,  Herbart  (^Psy- 
chologie  als  Wissenschaft,  pp.  200  ff.),  Wundt  {^Outlines  of  Psychology ^ 
tr.  Judd,  Leipzig,  1902,  pp.  227  ff.),  and  Stout  (^Analytic  Psychology, 
London,  1896,  vol.  ii,  pp.  118  f.),  —  it  remained  for  Professor  James  to 
point  out  the  significant  function  of  the  conscious  margin  in  mental  life. 
(See  his  Principles  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1900,  vol.  ii,  p.  49.)  That 
the  marginal  elements  which,  according  to  James,  "  carry  the  meaning," 
are  made  up  predominantly  of  strain  sensations  was  first  suggested  to  the 
author  by  Professor  H.  H.  Bawden's  "Study  of  Lapses"  {Psychological 
Review  Monograph  Supplement,  1900,  vol.  iii,  no.  14).  Very  recently 
Mr.  H.  R.  Marshall  has  elaborated  a  theory  which  identifies  the  concept 
of  self  with  the  field  of  inattention,  or  the  margin  of  the  conscious  field. 
He  divides  the  concept  of  self  up  into  a  number  of  subordinate  "  egos," 
and  identifies  each  of  these  with  a  certain  attitude  which,  if  we  under- 
stand his  position  aright,  is  structurally  represented  by  the  marginal  ele- 
ments of  consciousness.  (See  H.  R.  Marshall :  "  The  Field  of  Inattention 
—  the  Self,"  in  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and  Scientific  Method, 
1904,  vol.  i,  pp.  393-400.) 

^  Cf.,  for  example,  W.  James :  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology,  New 
York,  1899,  ch.  x;  M.  V.  O'Shea:  Education  as  Adjustment,  New  York, 
1903,  pp.  146  ff.;  C.  A.  McMurry:  Elements  of  General  Method,  New 
York,  1903,  ch.  iii;  J.  Dewey:  Interest  in  Relation  to  Will,  etc.,  second 
supplement,  Herbart  Year  Book,  1895;  C.  De  Garmo:  Interest  and  Edu- 
cation.  New  York,  1903. 


THE    DOCTRINE   OF    WORK  10/ 

it  is  an  educational  truism  that  apperception  functions 
most  readily  along  the  hnes  of  interest.  This  is  only 
another  way  of  saying  that  one  assimilates  experiences 
according  to  one's  needs,  for  the  needs  of  the  individ- 
ual determine  his  interests.  The  two  varieties  of 
needs  —  primitive  and  acquired  —  suggest  a  similar 
classification  of  interests  into  two  groups  which  can 
be  conveniently  represented  by  the  same  two  terms. 
Primitive  interest  is  the  pleasurable  affective  state  that 
accompanies  primary  passive  attention.  Acquired 
interest  is  the  pleasurable  affective  state  that  accom- 
panies secondary  passive  attention.  Active  attention 
—  inasmuch  as  it  always  means  a  struggle  against  desire, 
against  that  which  would  normally  be  pleasant  —  is 
obviously  always  unpleasant. 

So  long  as  the  pedagogical  doctrine  of  interest  meant 
the  following  of  the  lines  of  least  resistance,  its  failure 
as  an  educational  principle  was  absolutely  certain. 
Always  to  obey  the  dictates  of  interest,  in  this  sense 
of  the  term,  would  mean  the  instant  arrest  of  all  prog- 
ress. But  if  the  interest  means  the  desire  for  a  satisfac- 
tion of  acquired  needs,  the  case  is  somewhat  different. 
The  child  is  no  longer  at  the  mercy  of  the  strongest  stimu- 
lus; sustained  attention  directed  toward  a  remote  end 
has  become  possible.  But  the  point  never  to  be  for- 
gotten is  this:  acquired  interests  are  developed  only  under 
the  stress  of  active  attention.  Always  there  must  be 
some  inhibition  of  natural  tendencies  at  the  outset.    The 


I08  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

passion  for  change,  the  insidious  and  often  overwhelm- 
ing desire  "to  do  something  else"  must  be  strenuously 
repressed. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  the  function  of  the  teacher  is  all- 
important.  As  far  as  passive  attention  is  concerned,  the  child 
needs  no  guidance ;  when  he  has  reached  the  stage  of  second- 
ary passive  attention,  he  needs  little  guidance ;  but  the  stage 

of  active  attention  is  the  field  in  which  the  ..„!  I_vices  of 

the  teacher  find  their  highest  utility.  To  see  to  it  that  the 
child's  development  is  not  arrested  on  the  plane  of  play  is  the 
serious  business  of  education.  To  determine  the  point  at  which 
the  mind  must  be  guided,  pulled,  or  prodded  on  to  a  higher 
plane  of  functioning  is  the  duty  of  educational  science.  But 
the  task  of  guiding,  pulling,  or  prodding  is  assigned  to  the 
teacher. 

It  is  this  task  that  makes  the  work  of  the  teacher,  especially 
in  the  elementary  schools,  so  largely  a  battle  against  nature. 
It  could  not  well  be  anything  else.  One  may  seriously  doubt 
whether  there  is  anything  innate  in  the  child  that  will  lead  him 
to  the  increased  effort  that  this  implies.  CiviHzation  in  the 
race  has  cost  a  struggle  which  the  exigencies  of  the  environ- 
ment have  necessitated.  No  race  with  whom  the  conditions 
of  life  were  too  easy  has  ever  reached  the  higher  planes  of 
development.  There  is  no  reason  for  believing  that  the  civili- 
zation of  the  individual  can  be  accomplished  by  following  the 
lines  of  least  resistance. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  what  we  commonly  term  "work" 
is,  biologically,  the  central  feature  of  education.  The 
play  of  childhood  bears  all  the  earmarks  of  passive 
attention.  Its  end  is  immediate,  it  follows  the  strongest 
stimulus  —  the  lines  of  least  resistance.     It  is  not  sus 


THE    DOCTRINE    OF   WORK  IO9 

tained,  creative,  or  directed  toward  a  remote  end.  All 
this  must  be  changed;  gradually,  it  is  true,  but  none 
the  less  surely  and  certainly.  The  child  must  be  civil- 
ized, and,  as  we  have  said  again  and  again,  the  essence 
of  civilization  is  that  remote  and  not  immediate  ends 
govern  conduct. 

12.  But  if  the  doctrine  of  apperception  emphasizes 
work  or  effort  as  the  fundamental  factor  in  education, 
it  also  indicates  in  terms  equally  unmistakable  that  the 
task  of  education  may  be  materially  simplified  by  lead- 
ing the  child  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  acquire  the  higher 
needs.  Until  some  need  is  distinctly  present,  the  assimi- 
lation of  experience  is  slow  and  halting.  The  indi- 
vidual would  learn  arithmetic  willingly  enough  when, 
in  adult  years,  he  perceives  the  value  of  arithmetic  to 
his  survival.  But  unhappily  this  would  probably  be 
too  late  to  do  him  much  good.  At  any  rate,  the  task 
would  be  infinitely  more  laborious  and  the  individual's 
time  and  energy  much  more  in  demand  for  productive 
pursuits.  One  vital  necessity  of  education,  therefore, 
is  to  develop  in  the  immature  child  needs  that  will  demand 
the  acquisition  of  experiences  that  will  be  beneficial  in 
mature  life. 

Until  recently,  educators  gave  little  heed  to  this  problem. 
The  child  "learned  his  lessons"  under  compulsion. 
His  common  motive  was  to  avoid  pain.  This  meant 
the  assimilation  of  experiences  with  reference  to  needs 
of  a  low  order.     Not  only  were  the  apperceptions  of 


no  THE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

low  degree,  but  the  stage  of  secondary  passive  attention 
was  seldom  reached.  Always  there  was  a  tremendous 
waste  of  energy  in  the  conflict  between  the  desire  to 
follow  the  lines  of  least  resistance  and  the  desire  to  avoid 
pain. 

One  of  the  watchwords  of  modern  civilization  is  "  elim- 
ination of  waste."  Modern  education  is  slowly  recog- 
nizing that  it  is  economy  to  develop  acquired  interests, 
—  that  the  primitive  interests  may  be  replaced  with 
higher  needs  to  the  great  saving  of  time  and  energy. 
At  the  same  time,  it  has  been  recognized  that  these  higher 
interests  must  not  be  so  high  as  to  be  entirely  out  of  reach 
of  the  child.  There  must  be  an  adjustment,  a  compro- 
mise. Education  consequently  does  not  neglect  the 
instincts,  the  primitive  interests.  On  the  contrary, 
it  seizes  upon  them  and  turns  them  to  its  own  ends, 
seeking  slowly  to  transform  them  into  acquired  interests 
representing  ever  higher  and  higher  needs.  This  pro- 
cess may  be  illustrated  by  reference  to  a  few  of  the 
current  practices  in  elementary  education. 

(a)  When  the  child  enters  school,  he  is  in  the  period  of 
play,  —  the  stage  of  passive  attention.  His  apperceptions  are 
determined  by  primitive  needs.  His  end  is  the  immediate 
satisfaction  of  desire.  Sustained  attention  is  as  yet  an  un- 
developed capacity.  Consequently  he  has  but  few  acquired 
needs,  and  these  of  a  relatively  low  order. 

The  first  task  of  the  teacher  is  to  search  out  a  dominant  in- 
stinct. It  is  now  believed  that  instincts  have  their  periods  of 
rise  and  dominance  and  decay  just  as  other  vital  forces.    Not 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF  WORK  III 

all  instincts  are  in  the  ascendant  at  the  same  period  of  time ; ' 
consequently  the  teacher  must  know  something  of  this  rhythmic 
movement.  It  is  probable  that  the  instinct  of  imitation  will 
offer  the  most  favorable  avenue  of  approach.  The  child,  at 
about  the  age  of  entering  school,  deUghts  to  repeat  in  his  play 
adjustments  various  economic  processes  of  the  world  about  him. 

The  teacher  plans  a  playhouse  which  the  children  are  to 
make  and  furnish  for  themselves.  Here  is  a  remote  end  that 
corresponds  to  an  immediate  interest.  The  consummation  of 
this  end  will  occupy  perhaps  several  weeks.  Left  to  himself, 
the  child  would  tire  of  the  process  within  a  brief  period.  The 
house  would  be  neglected  for  "  something  else  "  and  soon  for- 
gotten. But  the  teacher,  while  he  permits  frequent  rests  and 
changes,  aims  to  keep  the  child  returning  to  the  task  until  it  is 
accomplished.  Gradually  the  instinct  of  imitation  is  replaced 
by  a  higher  interest,  —  the  interest  of  "  construction  "  ;  primary 
passive  attention  has  grown  into  secondary  passive  attention. 
And  yet,  even  with  an  objective  process,  such  as  building  and 
furnishing  a  playhouse,  there  has  been  an  indispensable  link  of 
active  attention,  a  period  of  effort,  of  work,  —  perhaps  even, 
brief  though  it  may  be,  of  drudgery. 

{b)  In  the  upper  grades,  the  work  of  instruction  in  language, 
and  especially  in  grammar,  has  always  been  a  tender  spot  in  the 
curriculum,  and  very  largely  because  it  has  been  difficult  to 
arouse  the  acquired  interest,  to  make  the  subject  matter  vital 
to  the  child.  Grammar  has  seemed  to  have  no  connection 
with  the  pupil's  life.  Consequently  its  mastery  has  been  a  life- 
less, formal  process. 

The  teacher  of  language  to-day  attempts  first  of  all  to 
develop  the  need.     Every  child  must  express  himself;  every 

1  The  science  of  child  study  is  gradually  working  out  this  problem  by 
accurate  methods.  The  work  of  Sully,  Kline,  Gulick,  Croswell,  Taylor, 
Burk,  Lindley,  Bryan,  and  others  is  important  in  this  connection.  An 
excellent  summary  will  be  found  in  I.  King :  Psychology  of  Child  Devel' 
tpment,  Chicago,  1903,  ch.  xiii. 


112  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

child  takes  a  certain  delight  in  expression.  He  likes  nothing 
better  than  to  talk  about  the  things  that  interest  him,  and  he 
Hkes  to  inform  others  about  these  things.  The  problem  of  the 
teacher  of  grammar  is  to  show  that,  in  one  way  or  another,  the 
study  of  grammar  will  promote  the  efficiency  of  expression.  If 
he  can  do  this  in  such  a  way  that  the  child  will  see  the  con- 
nection, grammar  will  mean  something  to  the  pupil,  will  have  a 
vital  relation  to  his  life.  It  is  to  this  end  that  the  teaching  of 
the  mother  tongue  attempts  first  of  all  to  give  the  child  a 
motive  for  expression,  —  something  to  talk  about,  a  sympa- 
thetic ear  to  listen.  Improvement  in  expression  may  then 
follow  by  the  gradual  correction  of  mistakes,  the  imitation  of 
correct  forms,  and  the  application  of  principles  gained  from  the 
study  of  grammar. 

((T)  In  an  analogous  fashion,  arithmetic  is  now  begun  in  the 
grades.  Constructive  work  reveals  the  need  of  counting,  meas- 
uring, evaluating,  etc.  This  need  will  make  the  first  steps 
rational  and  not  arbitrary.  They  will  take  on  "  meaning  "  to  the 
pupil,  and  the  first  condition  of  apperception  will  thus  be  fulfilled. 

(d)  In  the  preceding  paragraphs,  we  have  illustrated  the 
development  of  needs  of  an  intermediate  order,  —  something 
higher  than  mere  instincts,  something  less  high  than  needs  that 
will  later  be  developed.  Once  the  experiences  take  on  a  defi- 
nite reference  to  the  life  of  the  individual,  the  problem  of 
apperception  is  solved. 

But  the  higher  needs  still  remain  to  be  developed.  The 
child,  for  example,  may  perceive  the  value  of  grammar  in  im- 
proving his  expression,  and  this  may  make  possible  his  intro- 
ductory study  of  the  subject.  But  at  a  later  period,  he  may 
acquire  an  interest  in  grammar  for  its  own  sake.  The  study  of 
the  subject  may  as  a  study  satisfy  a  need  of  his  life.  This  will 
obviously  be  a  need  of  a  purely  intellectual  order,  a  further 
development  of  the  primitive  instinct  of  curiosity. 

(g)  One  might  go  on  to  show  how  the  teacher  in  the  ele- 
mentary school  may  seize,  at  the  proper  moment,  upon  the 


THE    DOCTRINE   OF    WORK  II3 

"  collecting "  instinct,  and  turn  its  force  into  an  educative 
channel.  Again  an  entire  chapter,  even  an  entire  book,  might 
be  written  upon  the  instinct  of  emulation  and  the  manner  in 
which  education  may  legitimately  utilize  it.  The  examples 
given,  however,  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  principle,  and  this  is 
all  that  can  be  attempted  in  the  present  connection. 

We  thus  see  the  significance  of  the  statement,  made 
earlier  in  the  discussion,  that  the  business  of  the  school 
is  to  overlay  the  lower  systems  of  apperception  with  those 
of  higher  degree.  We  must  build  upon  the  lower  sys- 
tems; all  our  work  must  start  with  these.  Occasion- 
ally, too,  we  must  return  to  them.  There  are  some 
experiences  which  the  child  must  assimilate  and  yet 
a  higher  need  for  which  may  be  hard  to  find.  The 
last  resource  in  such  cases  is  to  fall  back  upon  the 
incentive  of  fear.  This  is  especially  true  in  cases  where 
normal  development  has  been  arrested  upon  the  plane 
of  play.  The  new  methods  of  teaching  have  not  entirely 
replaced  the  older  and  harsher  methods.  There  are 
frequently  points  at  which  pulling  and  guiding  must 
give  place  to  prodding.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  point 
will  never  be  reached  where  pain  and  drudgery  can  be 
entirely  eliminated  from  the  educative  process. 

13.  Part  I  discussed  the  functions  of  education  and 
of  the  school  in  biological  and  sociological  terms.  Part 
II  has  been  concerned  with  a  continuation  of  the  same 
topic  from  the  psychological  standpoint,  and  especially 
with  a  development  of  the  laws  underlying  the  acqui- 
sition of  experience.    It  will  be  the  task  of  Part  III 


114  THE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

to  determine  the  different  modes  in  which  experience 
functions  in  modifying  adjustment,  with  a  view  to  ascer- 
taining in  what  manner  these  will  affect  the  educative 
process.  It  will  doubtless  appear  in  the  succeeding 
chapters  that  much  of  the  matter  of  Part  II  cuts  across 
the  discussions  of  Part  III.  This  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  Part  III  deals  with  the  functioning  of  experience 
while  Part  II  has  already  brought  out  one  function  of 
experience  —  namely  the  interpretation  of  new  expe- 
riences; hence  it  has  already  encroached  upon  the  terri- 
tory properly  belonging  to  the  former  section.  In  return 
for  this,  Part  III  should  throw  some  light  upon  the 
problems  with  which  we  have  just  been  dealing. 


PART   III.    THE   FUNCTIONING   OF 
EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  VII 

Experience  functioning  as  Habit 

1.  In  the  modification  of  adjustment,  experience 
functions  in  two  ways :  (a)  with  a  minimum  of  conscious- 
ness, or  even  without  consciousness  —  marginally  or 
automatically;  and  (b)  with  a  high  degree  or,  perhaps, 
a  maximum  of  consciousness  —  focally.  Or,  in  other 
words,  experience  functions  (a)  as  habit,  and  (b)  as 
judgment.  These  terms,  however,  really  represent  the 
extremes  of  functioning;  between  them  are  all  degrees 
and  shades  through  which  the  two  extremes  merge  into 
one  another. 

2.  Any  motor  adjustment  that  has  dropped  into  the 
margin  of  consciousness,  or  sunk  beneath  the  conscious 
threshold,  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  type  of  habit.  ^  The 
adjustments  that  are  involved  in  bicycle  riding  furnish 
a  familiar  example.     In  the  acquisition  of  this  art,  new 

^  It  is  true  that  "  habit,"  as  a  psychological  term,  cannot,  strictly  speak- 
ing, be  applied  to  an  unconscious  phenomenon.  The  term  is  here  used 
rather  in  its  neurological  significance.  Cf.  Baldwin's  Dictionary  of  Phi- 
loiophy  and  Psychology,  art.  "  Habit." 


Il6  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

and  complex  adjustments  of  the  muscles  must  be  mas 
tered  through  a  number  of  slow  and  tedious  repetitions 
Improvement  is  so  gradual  that  it  is  often  difficult  to 
note  any  change  between  one  series  of  efforts  and  its 
successor;  yet,  in  one  way  or  another,  the  process  is 
improved.  Each  new  trial  gives  a  new  experience  and 
helps  —  ever  so  little,  it  may  be  —  to  render  the  next 
trial  more  successful.  Finally  the  nerve  connections 
become  so  firmly  fixed  that  the  appropriate  adjustment 
"goes  off"  with  a  minimum  of  attention.  The  sUghtest 
deviation  from  the  position  of  perfect  balance  forms  the 
stimulus  that  initiates  the  complex  coordinations  neces- 
sary to  a  re'establishment  of  equilibrium.  These  coordi- 
nations come  gradually  to  be  relegated  to  the  margin 
of  consciousness  and  finally  drop  below  the  threshold. 
What  is  now  the  "reflex  arc"  at  first  included  the  cor- 
tical centers.  The  stimulus  and  the  adjustment  were 
data  of  consciousness.  But  gradually  consciousness 
leaves  the  process  more  and  more  to  look  after  itself. 
When  the  necessity  for  conscious  control  no  longer  exists, 
—  when  the  movement  can  be  adequately  "set  off" 
by  the  stimulus  in  this  mechanical  fashion,  —  the  process 
is  said  to  be  automatic. 

Automatic  movement  is  therefore  seen  to  be  identical 
with  reflex  movement,  except  in  this  particular:  it  must 
be  built  up  during  a  period  of  conscious  control,  while 
the  latter  may  run  its  course  from  first  to  last  without 
conscious   intervention.    In   other   words,    reflex   move- 


EXPERIENCE   FUNCTIONING   AS    HABIT  11^ 

ment  is  due  to  an  inherited  connection  of  elements  in 
the  nerve  structure,  while  automatic  movement  is  due 
to  an  acquired  connection  in  the  nerve  structure,  —  a 
connection  made,  moreover,  through  the  agency  of  con- 
sciousness. 

3.  The  process  of  bicycle  riding,  once  mastered,  may 
go  on  either  with  a  minimum  of  conscious  intervention 
or  entirely  without  conscious  control.  It  represents, 
therefore,  a  type  of  the  functioning  of  experience  that 
may  be  termed  unconscious  or  subconscious.  There 
are,  on  the  other  hand,  certain  habits  in  which  the  con- 
scious element  is  more  pronounced.  These  are  mar- 
ginal habits,  and  they  differ  from  automatisms  in  that 
the  stimulus  comes  into  the  field  of  consciousness,  but 
into  the  margin  rather  than  the  focus.  As  Stout  ^  ex- 
presses it,  such  stimuli  are  "assimilated"  rather  than 
"apperceived." 

"Sensori-motor"  actions^  form  good  examples  of  this 
type  of  habit.  They  include  the  multitude  of  Httle 
things  that  one  does  in  the  course  of  daily  Hfe  —  the 
habitual  adjustments  involved  in  dressing,  eating,  etc. 
The  sight  of  the  coat  "sets  off"  the  adjustments  requi- 
site to  putting  it  on.  The  pressure  upon  the  arms  and 
shoulders  sets  off,  in  turn,  the  adjustments  necessary 
to  buttoning  it  up,  and  so  on.  At  the  table,  the  sight 
of  the  knife  and  fork  suggests  the  movements  required 

*  G.  F.  Stout :  Analytic  Psychology,  vol.  ii,  p.  88. 

2  Cf.  E.  B.  Titchener:  Primer  of  Psychology,  pp.  170,  256^ 


Il8  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

to  take  them  up ;  the  sight  of  the  food  suggests  the  move- 
ments that  will  carry  it  to  the  mouth,  etc. 

These  may,  it  is  true,  degenerate  into  pure  motor  au- 
tomatisms, but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  they  generally  involve  a 
higher  degree  of  conscious  control ;  certainly  due  in  part  to 
the  fact  that,  while  they  are  constant  elements  in  daily  life, 
they  are  practiced  only  at  intervals  during  the  day, — once  or 
twice  or  three  times  as  the  case  may  be.  If  one  ate  and 
dressed  as  continually  as  one  walks,  the  movements  would 
doubtless  become  as  thoroughly  unconscious  as  are  those  of 
walking. 

One  who  is  familiar  with  the  crowded  streets  of  a  city  must 
have  noted  and  marveled  at  the  skill  with  which  the  teamsters 
and  cabmen  thread  their  way  through  the  congested  traffic, — 
with  what  apparent  ease  they  guide  their  horses  past  trucks 
and  street  cars  that  seem  hopelessly  to  obstruct  the  way, — 
how  nicely  they  avoid  disasters  that  appear  to  be  inevitable. 
Yet  many  of  these  men  seem  to  give  little  heed  to  what  they 
are  doing.  Some  of  them,  it  is  true,  are  worried  and  anxious, 
but  these  are  in  the  minority.  The  majority  sit  complacently 
behind  their  horses,  seemingly  as  careless  of  their  surroundings 
as  if  they  were  upon  a  lonely  country  road.  Nor  is  this  apparent 
carelessness  without  foundation  in  reality.  So  thoroughly 
familiar  have  they  become  with  these  conditions  that  eye  and 
hand  work  harmoniously  together  with  little  effort  of  mind.  To 
be  sure  they  are  alert  and  wide-awake,  but  their  eyes  and 
hands  and  the  lower  centers  of  the  brain  do  the  work.  The 
foci  of  their  minds  may  be  occupied  with  far  different  situations. 

4.  Another  type  of  marginal  habit  is  represented  by 
"ideo-motor"  actions.^  Ideo-motor  action  is  similar 
to  the  sensori-motor  variety,  except  that  an  idea  rather 

1  Cf.  Titchener,  op,  cii,,  pp.  170,  256. 


EXPERIENXE    FUNCTIONING   AS    HABIT  II9 

than  an  external  stimulus  sets  off  the  accustomed  ad- 
justments. Ideo-motor  habits  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
processes  of  speaking  and  writing.  Here  the  adjust- 
ments that  are  requisite  to  the  formation  of  the  spoken 
or  written  word  follow  upon  the  idea  of  the  word. 

The  unstudied  and  habitual  use  of  "good  form"  in  speak- 
ing and  writing  is  a  type  of  ideo-motor  habit  that  is  especially 
important  from  the  standpoint  of  education.  If  one  is  to 
speak  or  write  effectively,  the  form  must  be  largely  outside  the 
focus  of  consciousness.  Proper  and  effective  modes  of  com- 
bining words  must  be  so  firmly  fixed  by  practice  that  attention 
can  be  given  unreservedly  to  the  "  thought  "  or  "  content,"  with 
full  confidence  that  the  form  will,  as  it  were,  take  care  of  itself. 

In  this  category  belong,  also,  the  little  conventionalities  of 
"  etiquette,"  —  those  habitual  adjustments  that  mark  the  per- 
son of  "  good  breeding."  These  must  be  so  fixed  by  constant 
(and,  in  the  beginning,  conscious)  repetition  that  they  will 
"go  off"  without  mental  effort,  —  that  they  will  become 
"  second  nature." 

An  important  general  characteristic  of  habit  is  well 
illustrated  by  the  examples  cited.  Once  the  process  of 
bicycle  riding  has  become  thoroughly  automatized,  the 
bringing  of  the  adjustments  back  into  the  focus  of  con- 
sciousness will  seriously  interfere  with  its  efficiency. 
Similarly,  where  the  movements  of  walking  become  "self- 
conscious,"  they  are  thereby  rendered  awkward  and 
ungainly.  The  same  rule  holds  with  marginal  habits. 
When  one  has  mastered  the  use  of  correct  forms  of 
speech,  attention  to  these  forms  will  very  likely  render 
the  expression  stilted  and  formal. 


I20  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

5.  Moral  Habits.  There  are  processes  of  a  more  com 
plex  nature  that  also  demand  treatment  under  the  head 
of  habit,  for,  notwithstanding  their  complexity,  they  still 
retain  the  essential  structure  of  habit  —  a  definite  and 
uniform  response  to  a  definite  stimulus  or  situation, 
involving  less  and  less  conscious  efifort  as  practice  con- 
tinues. 

{a)  Habits  of  Cleanliness.  The  old  proverb,  "Clean- 
liness is  next  to  Godliness,"  expresses  a  world  of  truth 
from  the  standpoint  of  education.  Filth  is  the  line  of 
least  resistance;  the  "natural  man"  is  an  unclean  man. 
Cleanliness  is  a  product  of  civilization;  it  represents  a 
certain  measure  of  triumph  over  the  brute.  Once  let 
the  tension  relax  and  here,  as  elsewhere,  man  tends  to 
revert  to  type.  This  is  shown  in  the  decay  of  old  age, 
in  progressive  dementia,  and  in  that  unnamed  decay 
that  results  from  the  unbridled  pursuit  of  sensual  pleas- 
ures. Always  there  must  be  more  or  less  effort  involved 
in  holding  one's  self  to  the  plane  represented  by  civilized 
society.  The  habit  of  cleanliness  means  the  reduction 
of  this  effort  to  a  minimum  through  a  term  of  unceasing 
vigilance. 

(b)  Habits  0}  Industry.  Like  the  habits  of  cleanli- 
ness, these  are,  in  their  initial  stages,  a  battle  against 
nature.  The  line  of  least  resistance  is  not  the  line  of 
sustained  effort.  The  natural  man  is  the  "indolent"  man, 
—  not  necessarily  the  inactive  man,  but  the  man  who  is 
averse  to  sustained  effort.    Like  the  child,  he  is  the 


EXPERIENCE    FUNCTIONING   AS    HABIT  121 

slave  of  every  stimulus  to  change.  The  habits  of  indus- 
try represent  the  uniform  resistance  to  this  temptation. 

(c)  Habits  0}  Honor.  As  with  all  terms  of  a  profound 
nature,  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  adequately  to 
define  "honor."  Essentially  it  is  an  ideal,  a  conscious 
attitude.  Habits  of  honor  are  built  up  through  a  con- 
tinued subordination  of  certain  natural  tendencies  to 
high  ideals  of  manhood  and  womanhood. 

The  moral  habits  undoubtedly  approach  the  judg- 
ment more  closely  than  the  automatisms  and  marginal 
habits  previously  discussed,  and  their  treatment  must 
be  reserved  for  a  later  section,  where  they  can  be  studied 
in  the  light  of  the  principles  underlying  judgment. 

6.  The  Function  0}  Habit.  The  relation  of  habit  to 
efficiency  is  direct.  It  is  simple,  simon-pure  economy 
to  reduce  the  constant  and  unvarying  functions  of  life 
to  the  plane  of  automatism,  —  to  take  them  out  of  the 
focus  of  consciousness  and  thus  leave  the  higher  centers 
free  to  deal  with  the  changing,  varying  problems  of  exist- 
ence. A  man  could  accomplish  very  little  if  he  had 
constantly  to  devote  his  energy  and  attention  to  the  little 
details  of  everyday  hfe.  If  he  had  consciously  to  adjust 
his  muscles  at  every  step  of  his  walk  to  his  office,  he 
would  have  little  strength  left  for  the  business  of  the 
day;  and  if  men  had  always  consciously  to  resist  the 
temptations  to  unsocial  and  immoral  action,  the  mere 
operation  of  physical  forces  would  make  corruption  the 
rule  and  not  the  exception  in  every  department  of  life. 


122  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

If  habit,  then,  is  nine  tenths  of  life,  —  as  it  certainly 
is,  —  the  formation  of  habits  should  bear  a  somewhat 
corresponding  ratio  to  the  total  task  of  education.  The 
school  deals  with  the  individual  during  a  plastic  period, 
and  it  is  during  this  period  that  habits  of  all  kinds  must 
be  formed  if  they  are  to  be  formed  most  economically 
and  effectively.  George  EHot  has  forcibly  expressed  this 
truth  in  "Daniel  Deronda."  Gwendolen,  a  butter- 
fly of  society,  has  been  thrown  upon  her  own  resources 
after  a  childhood  and  youth  in  which  discipHne  and  train- 
ing found  no  place.  She  believes  that  she  has  musical 
talent,  and  she  asks  Klesmer,  a  successful  musician,  to 
help  her  turn  this  talent  to  financial  account.  Klesmer's 
reply  sums  up  the  pedagogy  of  habit  in  a  nutshell :  — 

"  Any  great  achievement  in  acting  or  in  music  grows  with  the 
growth.  Whenever  an  artist  has  been  able  to  say,  *  I  came,  I 
saw,  I  conquered,'  it  has  been  at  the  end  of  patient  practice. 
Genius  at  first  is  little  more  than  a  great  capacity  for  receiving 
discipline.  Singing  and  acting,  like  the  fine  dexterity  of  the 
juggler  with  his  cup  and  balls,  require  a  shaping  of  the  organs 
toward  a  finer  and  finer  certainty  of  effect.  Your  muscles, 
your  whole  frame  must  go  like  a  watch,  —  true,  true,  true  to  a 
hair.  This  is  the  work  of  the  springtime  of  life  before  the 
habits  have  been  formed." 

Drill,  repetition,  and  discipline  are  the  important 
words  in  the  pedagogy  of  habit;  but  the  principle  that 
is  perhaps  most  frequently  neglected  is  this:  processes 
that  are  to  be  made  habitual  or  automatic  must  first  be 
focalized.    Not  only  this,  but  a  process  is  automatized  the 


EXPERIENCE    FUNCTIONING    AS    HABIT  1 23 

more  effectively  the  more  strenuously  it  is  focalized  in 
its  initial  stages.  The  law  of  habit  building  might, 
then,  be  summed  up  in  the  following  formula:  Focali- 
zation  plus  drill  in  attention. 

The  formation  of  a  habit  is  somewhat  analogous  to 
the  concentration  of  a  solution  to  the  point  of  crystal- 
lization. One  may  add  to  such  a  solution  increment 
after  increment,  but  unless  one  final  increment  is  added, 
the  solution  will  remain  in  the  liquid  state.  Similarly, 
in  forming  a  habit,  one  may  go  through  with  the  slow 
and  gradual  process  of  repetition  upon  repetition,  drill 
upon  drill,  but  unless  one  final  series  of  drills  and  repeti- 
tions is  added,  the  plane  of  automatization  is  not  reached. 

The  simplicity  of  the  pedagogy  of  habit  as  contrasted  with 
the  involved  character  of  the  pedagogy  of  judgment,  perhaps 
accounts  for  the  neglect  of  this  subject  by  educational  writers. 
At  any  rate  it  is  true  that  few  pedagogical  treatises  give  to 
habit  even  the  smallest  fraction  of  the  treatment  that  its  funda- 
mental significance  would  seem  to  demand. 

This  neglect  is  reflected  in  certain  fallacious  practices  that 
have  caused  an  immense  waste  in  the  work  of  the  schools.  The 
wide  application  of  the  doctrine  of  "  incidental  learning  "  is  a 
case  in  point.  This  doctrine  assumed  that  "  content "  and 
"form"  could  be  acquired  simultaneously;  or,  to  put  it  in 
another  way,  that  form  could  be  acquired  incidentally  while 
attention  is  fixed  upon  "  thought  "or  "content."  This  assump- 
tion is  a  direct  violation  of  the  law  of  habit ;  the  child  can 
never  become  proficient  in  form  without  many  distinct  acts  of 
attention  dealing  with  form  alone.  It  may  be  that  the  child 
will  learn  to  spell  without  spelling  lessons  as  such ;  that  he 
will  "  absorb  "  the  form  of  written  and  printed  words  while  he 


124  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

is  reading  interesting  stories  or  writing  essays  and  compositions 
But  if  this  is  ever  true,  it  is  because  attention  has  been  divided, 
now  being  concentrated  upon  the  form,  now  upon  the  content, 
and  flitting  from  one  to  the  other  as  the  exigencies  of  the  task 
have  demanded. 

Similarly,  the  principles  of  syntax  and  rhetorical  composition 
may  be  gained  through  the  reading  of  literary  masterpieces  and 
the  hearing  of  correct  forms  in  conversation ;  but  whenever  this 
miracle  occurs,  it  is  because  attention  has  been  drawn  away 
from  the  content  —  from  the  thought  or  meaning  of  the  writer 
or  speaker  —  and  concentrated  upon  the  form.  Macaulay 
says,  "  It  is  not  by  overturning  great  libraries,  but  by  repeatedly 
perusing  and  intently  contemplating  a  few  great  masterpieces 
that  the  mind  is  best  disciplined."  It  is  in  the  repeated  perusal 
and  intent  contemplation  that  content  is  neglected  and  form 
emphasized.  The  essence  of  a  good  literary  style  lies  in  the 
very  fact  that  the  form  is  not  superficial,  not  obvious.  Like  a 
window,  it  fulfills  its  function  most  effectively  when  it  is  least 
in  evidence.  If  one  is  to  gather  the  principles  of  style,  then, 
from  the  study  of  masters,  one  must  look  deeply  to  find  them. 
Mere  reading  for  the  sake  of  the  "  story,"  —  for  the  sake  of  the 
content,  —  will  not  furnish  them. 

The  doctrine  of  incidental  learning  may  bring  results,  but  it 
is  obviously  at  a  certain  waste  of  time  and  energy.  Divided 
attention  means  a  breaking  up  of  the  continuity  of  conscious- 
ness. At  each  change  there  is  demanded  an  overcoming  of 
inertia,  and  this  operates  in  mental  work  precisely  as  it  operates 
in  physical  work. 

7.  The  Breaking  Up  0}  Habits.  In  the  work  of  the 
school,  habit  building  frequently  takes  the  form  of  re- 
placing bad  or  inefficient  habits  with  those  of  the 
opposite  character.  The  "rooting  out"  of  a  habit 
follows  the  same  law  as  the  formation  of  a  habit  except 


EXPERIENCE    FUNCTIONING   AS   HABIT  12$ 

that  the  process  is  reversed.  In  forming  a  habit,  the  rule 
is  focahzation,  followed  by  drill  in  attention  until  automa- 
tism results.  A  full-fledged  habit  operates  apart  from 
attention.  If  such  a  habit  is  to  be  disintegrated,  it  is 
necessary  to  bring  the  mechanized  process  back  into  the 
focus  of  consciousness  and  there  to  replace  it  with  another 
process. 

Examples  of  this  procedure  are  found  particularly  in  the 
language  training  of  the  elementary  school.  The  child  uses 
a  number  of  incorrect  and  inefficient  forms,  —  partly  because 
he  has  acquired  them  through  imitation,  partly  also  because 
language  is  a  synthetic  process,  and  the  pupil  puts  words  to- 
gether in  combinations  that  he  has  never  heard  before,  or,  at 
least,  never  noted.  Necessarily  some  of  these  forms  will  be 
crude,  incorrect,  and  inefficient,  but  their  continued  repetition 
will  tend  to  fix  them  as  habits. 

A  common  trick  of  speech  among  children  in  the  early 
grades  is  the  useless  and  awkward  repetition  of  the  pronoun 
after  a  noun :  "  George  Washington,  he  crossed  the  Dela- 
ware ; "  "  The  Irish,  they  eat  potatoes."  Other  tricks  of 
speech  that  must  be  broken  up  are  the  use  of  such  words  as 
well,  why,  then,  in  useless  connections.  The  wise  teacher  does 
not  attempt  to  correct  all  such  mistakes  at  once.  Rather  he 
selects  a  typical  mistake,  common  to  most  of  his  pupils.  This 
mistake  he  points  out  to  them,  showing  in  what  its  insufficien- 
cies consist,  and  how  the  correct  form  will  improve  the  ex- 
pression,— will  better  subserve  the  purpose  of  communication. 
Then,  by  constant  drill  on  this  one  mistake,  —  correcting  it  as 
quietly  as  possible  when  it  creeps  into  the  recitation,  asking 
the  pupils  frequently  what  it  is  that  they  are  trying  to 
avoid,  —  he  gradually  replaces  the  erroneous  with  the  correct 
form. 


126  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

8.  The  treatment  of  the  last  section  may  seem  some- 
what unorthodox  to  one  who  is  familiar  with  contem- 
porary educational  theory.  The  prominence  that  has 
attached  to  the  factor  of  imitation  through  the  writings 
of  Tarde  and  Baldwin  has  given  rise  in  some  circles  to 
a  notion  that  imitation  is  the  chief  process  in  education. 
This  notion  has  found  its  most  effective  expression  in 
the  reaction  against  the  "false  syntax"  that  had  so  promi- 
nent a  place  in  the  older  grammars.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  this  feature  of  grammatical  instruction  was 
carried  to  an  unnecessary  extreme;  perhaps  a  few  pupils 
used  incorrect  forms  because  they  saw  them  upon  the 
page  of  the  text-book  —  although  that  this  evil  ever 
assumed  the  tremendous  influence  lately  ascribed  to  it 
is  seriously  to  be  doubted.  At  any  rate,  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  the  child  uses  false  syntax  in  his  own  spontaneous 
expression  in  a  degree  sufficient  for  all  purposes  of  illus- 
tration. 

But  when  the  opponents  of  false  syntax  state  that  the 
child  should  never  be  made  conscious  of  an  incorrect 
form,  they  are  repudiating  one  of  the  basal  principles 
of  growth  and  development.  It  is  hardly  too  much  to 
say  that  every  man  who  succeeds  chmbs  to  success  upon 
the  carcasses  of  his  dead  mistakes.  As  one  writer  ^  has 
expressed  it:  "The  whole  process  of  human  locomotion, 
not  only  physical  but  mental,  is  hterally  a  series  of  unin- 

1  W.  Hutchinson:  The  Gospel  according  to  Darwin,  Chicago,  1898, 
p.  12. 


EXPERIENCE   FUNCTIONING    AS   HABIT  127 

temipted  falls.  Our  only  chance  of  advancing  is  to  fall 
in  the  right  direction  and  keep  at  it.  Our  only  struggle 
should  be,  not  to  avoid  falling,  but  to  fall  forward." 
In  spite  of  asseverations  to  the  contrary,  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  a  principle  that  the  history  of  science  and  the 
history  of  civilization  reveal  upon  every  page  is  far  too 
fundamental  to  be  repudiated  by  education. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Experience  functioning  as  Judgment 

1.  The  essence  of  an  automatic  adjustment  is  that  it 
is  automatic  —  that  it  takes  place  in  the  same  definite 
manner  upon  every  occasion.  Once  an  adjustment 
functions  freely  as  habit,  consciousness  is  relieved  of 
attention  to  the  details  which  habit  looks  after  efficiently. 
Hence  it  "pays"  for  the  individual  to  undergo  a  strenu- 
ous training  in  order  to  mechanize  a  large  number  of 
reactions.  But  experiences  that  are  to  function  con- 
sciously must  be  treated  in  a  different  manner.  They 
are  not  to  be  used  in  the  same  uniform  fashion  on  every 
occasion.  Certain  experiences,  indeed,  that  education 
goes  to  great  pains  to  impress  may  function  but  once 
in  modifying  adjustment.  Others  may  never  function  at 
all.  Still  others  may  function  frequently  in  hundreds 
of  different  situations. 

The  problem  here  is  obviously  less  simple  than  that 
which  was  presented  in  connection  with  habit.  In  the 
latter  case,  we  had  reference  to  situations  that  should  be 
constant;  now  we  must  plan  with  reference  to  situations 
that  are  to  be  variable.    In  habit,  the  task  is  to  make 


EXPERIENCE   FUNCTIONING   AS   JUDGMENT  129 

adjustments  rigid,  unchangeable;  in  judgment,  it  is 
essential  to  insure  the  very  reverse  of  this  —  to  insure 
adaptabiUty  to  different  situations.^ 

2.  The  last  chapter  instanced  a  teamster  in  a  crowded 
city  street  as  illustrative  of  a  man  whose  experiences 
functioned  mainly  as  habit.  It  was  noted  that  his  ad- 
justments were  few  and  comparatively  unvarying.  Con- 
sequently, once  his  art  had  been  mastered,  it  could  be 
practiced  with  little  effort  of  attention.  Now  and  again, 
perhaps,  a  situation  might  present  itself  that  would 
require  delicate  judgment,  but  such  situations  would  not 
enter  largely  into  his  duties.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  some  men  who  must  solve  new  problems  at  every 
turn,  —  who  must  constantly  apply  experience  in  ways 
new  and  unforeseen.  The  situations  that  they  face  are 
seldom  twice  the  same.  Between  these  two  extremes 
there  are  thousands  of  occupations  demanding  judgment 
in  varying  degrees. 

Consider,  for  example,  the  captain  of  a  steamship.  Nine 
tenths  of  his  time  is  perhaps  devoted  to  routine  duties,  —  to 
duties  that  are  largely  relegated  to  the  field  of  habit.  His  only 
care  in  such  cases  is  to  see  that  the  routine  is  faithfully  kept  up. 

1 "  We  have  argued  that '  reason '  is  our  name  for  the  process  which  in 
an  objective  view  appears  as  organic  variation;  .  .  .  that  'reasoning'  is 
our  name  for  the  conscious  side  of  those  activities  of  our  nature  which 
enable  the  organism  to  depart  from  typical  reactions;  .  .  .  that  reason  is 
therefore  the  psychic  coincident  of  that  capacity  within  us  which  is  all- 
important  in  the  adaptation  of  life  to  an  environment  which,  in  its  very 
nature,  must  be  ever-variable."  —  H.  R.  Marshall  :  Instinct  and  Reason^ 
New  York,  1898,  p.  114. 

K 


I30  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

As  long  as  conditions  remain  normal,  the  ship  will  almost  "  run 
itself."  But  in  the  exceptional  instance,  —  when  the  ship  is 
entering  a  strange  harbor,  when  an  accident  has  disabled  the 
machinery,  when  a  storm  renders  navigation  dangerous,  — 
every  increment  of  the  captain's  energy  must  go  to  the  solution 
of  the  problem  in  hand.  He  must  diligently  search  his  past 
experience  for  similar  situations  which  may  help  him  out ;  he 
must  recall  and  apply  all  the  principles  that  bear  upon  the 
case ;  in  short,  from  the  experiences  that  he  has  gained  in  his 
own  work,  from  the  experiences  of  others  in  similar  situations, 
from  the  general  principles  relating  to  his  calling  that  have 
been  derived  from  race  experience,  he  must  devise,  construct, 
plan  a  course  of  action  that  will  meet  his  needs.  His  ability  to 
do  this  successfully  will  obviously  depend  largely  upon  the  mass 
of  experience  at  his  command,  upon  his  ability  to  recall 
those  features  that  are  salient  to  the  present  problem,  and 
upon  his  ability  to  perceive  the  relation  between  what  he 
"  knows"  and  what  he  must  do. 

3.  A  judgment  is  an  act  which  results  from  the  facing 
of  a  given  situation,  and  in  which  past  experience  is  con- 
sciously brought  to  hear  upon  the  solution  of  this  situation. 
As  Miss  Thompson^  says:  "It  is  always  an  act  stimu- 
lated by  some  set  of  conditions  which  needs  readjusting. 
Its  outcome  is  a  readjustment  whose  value  is  and  can 
be  tested  only  by  its  adequacy." 

4.  There  are  two  important  types  of  judgment,  the 
distinctions  between  which  must  be  carefully  consid- 
ered in  educational  theory:  (a)  the  practical  judgment 
involving  the   conscious   application   of  concrete  experi- 

^  Helen  Bradford  Thompson  :  "  Bosanquet's  Theory  of  Judgment,"  in 
Dewey's  Studies  in  Logical  Theory,  Chicago,  1903,  pp.  107  fif. 


EXPERIENCE   FUNCTIONING   AS   JUDGMENT  I3I 

cnce;    and   (b)   the  conceptual  judgment,  involving  the 
conscious  application  of  condensed  experience. 

(a)  The  Practical  Judgment.  This  term  has  been 
used  by  Hobhouse  ^  to  denote  the  application  of  expe- 
rience revived  in  its  concrete  form;  that  is,  recalled  in 
the  same  materials  of  sensation  in  which  it  originally 
occurred.  The  organism  faces  a  situation;  some  fea- 
ture of  the  situation  recalls,  in  at  least  a  portion  of  its 
sensory  details,  a  similar  situation  previously  faced.  This 
brings  with  it  the  idea  of  the  way  in  which  the  former 
situation  was  reacted  to.  Reaction  is  then  made  to  the 
present  situation  on  the  basis  of  the  former  reaction. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  some  one  is  severely  burned  and 
that,  no  physician  being  within  call,  a  servant  of  a  physician, 
who  has  helped  his  employer  upon  several  occasions,  is  sum- 
moned. As  he  views  the  situation,  he  recalls  a  peculiarly  vivid 
experience  in  which  he  assisted  in  dressing  a  similar  burn.  The 
procedure  of  the  preceding  case  is  readily  repeated  in  this 
instance  and  the  burn  is  successfully  dressed.  This  is  the  re- 
call of  experience  in  a  concrete,  particular  form.  The  tWea 
of  a  single  past  situation  is  revived  and  applied  to  a  similar 
present  situation. 

5.  Analysis,  Synthesis,  Comparison,  and  Abstraction 
in  the  Practical  Judgment.  But  this  does  not  tell  the 
whole  story.  No  two  situations  are  exactly  ahke;  they 
may  approach  identity,  but,  in  the  nature  of  things,  it 
may  be  assumed  that  perfect  identity  is  never  reached. 
The  capacity,  then,  to  make  such  a  correlation  of  expe* 

^  L.  T.  Hobhouse:  Mind  in  Evolution,  London,  1901,  ch.  vi. 


132  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

riences  as  that  just  cited  depends  upon  the  capacity  to 
analyze  an  experience  into  its  component  parts,  and  to 
recognize  some  relation  between  similar  parts  of  different 
experiences.  This  relation  once  recognized,  a  synthesis 
of  parts  of  experiences  is  made  which  results  in  the  appli- 
cation of  the  past  situation  to  the  present  situation. 
Thus  the  practical  judgment  involves  what  the  older 
logicians  called  analysis  and  synthesis  as  truly  as  does 
the  logical  judgment. 

Analysis  and  synthesis,  however,  depend  upon  atten- 
tion: in  analysis,  we  break  up  experiences  into  their 
component  parts,  attending  to  one  part  at  a  time  and 
neglecting  the  others;  in  synthesis,  we  recognize  a  com- 
ponent that  is  common  to  two  or  more  experiences,  raise 
this  element  into  the  focus  of  attention,  and  combine  the 
two  or  more  experiences  upon  the  basis  of  this  common  ele- 
ment. This  process  obviously  involves  what  the  logicians 
term  comparison  and  abstraction.  The  practical  judgment 
rests  upon  the  capacity  to  pick  out  the  common  element 
in  different  experiences,  and  this  "perception  of  a  rela- 
tion" is  a  vital  characteristic  in  all  forms  of  judgment. 

6.  Advantages  and  Limitations  of  the  Practical  Judg' 
ment.  An  organism  that  can  recall  its  past  experiences 
and  utilize  them  in  facing  new  situations  is  obviously 
at  an  advantage  over  an  organism  that  can  face  situa- 
tions only  upon  the  basis  of  instinct  or  habit,  although 
there  are  numerous  situations  to  which  the  inherited 
and  habitual  adjustments  are  entirely  adequate.     Sitiia* 


EXPERIENCE  FUNCTIONING  AS  JUDGMENT     1 33 

tions  that  are  common  to  everyday  life,  for  example, 
are  best  met  by  an  habitual  adjustment,  and  situations 
that  throughout  the  history  of  the  race  have  always  been 
critical  to  life  are  best  met  by  hereditary  or  instinctive 
adjustments.  It  is  well  that  one  can  dodge  a  missile 
instinctively  —  without  stopping  to  "think"  about  it  — 
without  reducing  action  to  the  form  of  judgment.  But 
instinctive  and  habitual  adjustments,  efl&cient  as  they  are, 
require  numberless  experiences,  either  racial^  or  individ- 
ual, in  order  that  they  may  become  fixed  and  certain. 
This  process  impUes  a  tremendous  waste  —  a  constant 
eHmination  of  the  many  forms  that  are  unfit  and  the 
slow,  long-continued  selection  of  the  few  forms  that  are 
fit.  In  the  practical  judgment,  however,  a  single  expe- 
rience may  serve  to  insure  a  more  adequate  adjustment 
Thus  while  the  practical  judgment  may  not  work  as 
rapidly  or  as  certainly  in  a  given  instance  as  either  in- 
stinct or  habit,  it  broadens  the  scope  of  an  organism's 
activity  and  requires  infinitely  less  time  to  be  brought 
to  a  stage  of  efiiciency. 

The  limitations  of  the  practical  Judgment  are  (i)  the 
fact  that  it  involves  the  recall  of  a  particular,  concrete 
experience;  the  new  situation  must  resemble  the  past 
experience  in  many  features,  and  these  features  must  be 
upon  the  surface ;  there  is  no  reference  to  underlying 
principles  that  might  form  a   common   link   between 

^  This  statement  does  not  necessarily  assume  the  inheritance  of  acquued 
characteristics. 


134  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

experiences  having,  superficially^  nothing  in  common, 
(2)  Furthermore,  the  past  experience  must  have  been  verj 
recently,  very  vividly,  or  very  frequently  impressed  in 
order  to  be  revived  in  a  concrete  form.  Thus  only  com- 
paratively few  experiences  will  serve  as  possible  bases 
for  practical  judgments,  because,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
comparatively  few  experiences  will  possess  either  one  or 
another  of  these  advantages. 

If  man  were  limited  to  practical  judgments,  he  would  have 
little  advantage  over  some  of  the  higher  animals,  for  experi- 
ments in  animal  psychology  seem  to  indicate  that  some  of  the 
more  "  intelHgent "  of  the  vertebrates  —  particularly  the  dog, 
the  horse,  the  elephant,  and  the  monkey  —  can  apply  experi- 
ence in  this  way ;  that  is,  they  can  analyze  past  and  present 
experiences,  pick  out  common  qualities,  and  mediate  means 
to  ends  upon  this  basis.*  Such  an  animal,  for  instance,  when 
placed  in  a  cage  the  door  of  which  is  fastened  by  a  peculiar 
clasp,  will  watch  his  master  unfasten  the  clasp  and  then  do  it 
himself.  This  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  crude  form  of  practi- 
cal judgment,  for  it  is  tolerably  clear  that  the  animal  perceives 
a  relation  between  the  experience  of  watching  the  master  open 
the  cage  and  the  opening  of  it  by  his  own  efforts.  It  has,  in 
other  words,  abstracted  a  common  quality  from  different  expe- 
riences, and  applied  this  common  element  to  the  solution  of  a 
given  problem. 

The  monkey,  however,  will  do  more  than  this.    If  the  clasp 

*  The  conclusions  regarding  practical  judgment  in  animals  are  stated 
OB  the  authority  of  Hobhouse,  op.  cit.,  chs.  vi-viii.  See  also  his  criticism 
of  the  views  of  Thorndike  and  others,  who  deny  this  capacity  in  even  the 
higher  vertebrates.  The  conclusions  regarding  the  operation  of  practical 
judgment  in  children  are  based  upon  the  author's  own  observations  and 
experiments. 


EXPERIENCE   FUNCTIONING   AS  JUDGMENT  1 35 

be  replaced  by  one  slightly  different,  it  will  perceive  the  rela- 
tion between  the  first  experience  and  the  new  situation,  or,  to 
speak  objectively,  between  the  first  clasp  and  the  second,  and 
modify  its  adjustments  accordingly.  If  the  relation  is  not  obvi- 
ous, however,  —  if  the  difference  between  the  two  experiences 
is  too  great, — the  monkey  will  be  nonplussed.  In  other  words, 
its  judgments  are  of  an  entirely  practical  order.  They  depend 
upon  superficial  resemblances  and  do  not  penetrate  to  underly- 
ing principles. 

The  child,  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his  development,  is  limited 
to  practical  judgments.  If  he  is  confined  in  a  yard  by  a  rope 
slipped  over  the  gate-post  and  one  of  the  pickets  of  the  gate, 
he  may  watch  some  one  open  the  gate  by  lifting  the  rope,  and 
then,  if  he  can  reach  or  climb  to  the  top  of  the  gate,  he  may 
proceed  to  do  the  same  thing  himself.  If  the  rope  is  replaced 
by  a  hoop,  the  new  situation  will  offer  no  insurmountable  diffi- 
culties. The  relation  between  rope  and  hoop  will  be  readily 
grasped.  If  the  hoop  is  fastened  by  a  peg,  he  may  see  the 
relation  between  the  hoop  and  the  peg,  and  pull  the  latter  out. 
But  if  the  hoop  is  replaced  by  a  knob  that  turns  a  latch,  he 
may  perceive  the  relation  between  the  latch  and  the  opening 
of  the  gate,  but  the  relation  between  the  latch  and  the  knob 
will,  for  some  time,  be  too  much  for  him.  This  relation  is  not 
superficial,  and  practical  judgment  is  inadequate.  If  some  one 
turns  the  knob  and  opens  the  gate,  he  can  easily  repeat  the 
operation,  but  if  knob  and  latch  be  replaced  by  lock  and  key, 
he  is  again  nonplussed. 

With  one  of  mature  years,  however,  a  situation  of  this  sort, 
even  if  it  were  as  thoroughly  novel  as  it  is  to  the  child,^  would 
offer  few  difficulties.  His  experiences  would  be  much  more 
thoroughly  organized,  and  superficial  resemblances  between  the 

*  This  is,  of  course,  only  a  supposition.  In  reality,  the  situation  conid 
never  be  as  novel  to  the  adult  as  to  the  child.  See  O'Shea,  op.  cit.,  p.  225 ; 
also  E.  B.  Titchener:  An  Outiint  0/ Psychology,  New  York,  1899,  p.  271. 


136  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCfiSS 

piesent  and  the  past  situations  would  be  less  essential.  We 
have  now  to  inquire  how  it  comes  about  that  man  can  advance 
beyond  the  practical  judgment  to  the  operation  of  which  the 
child  and  the  young  animal  are  rigorously  limited. 

7.  (b)  The  Conceptual  Judgment.  Reverting  to  the 
illustration  of  the  physician's  servant  and  the  bum,  it 
is  clear  that  the  servant  was  able  to  treat  the  bum  suc- 
cessfully because  he  recalled  an  experience  in  which  he 
had  helped  his  master  treat  a  similar  bum.  The  com- 
mon features  of  the  two  experiences  enabled  him  to  apply 
the  first  to  the  second,  treating  the  wound  as  successfully, 
perhaps,  as  his  master  could  have  done.  But  suppose 
the  resemblance  to  be  only  superficial  —  suppose  that  the 
burn  were  of  such  a  kind  that  the  application  of 
the  first  form  of  treatment  to  it  would  be  inadequate. 
Here  the  repetition  of  the  same  procedure  might  produce 
the  most  untoward  results.  '  It  is  not  likely,  however, 
that  the  physician  himself  would  be  deceived  by  super- 
ficial resemblances.  He  would  see  more  deeply,  although 
he  would  still  apply  experience  to  the  solution  of  the 
problem.  Nor  would  the  only  difference  be  that  he  had 
more  experiences  at  his  command  than  the  servant  had. 
If  that  were  true,  the  art  of  surgery  could  be  acquired 
by  an  apt  servant  if  he  only  remained  with  his 
master  long  enough.  The  physician,  however,  is  trained 
in  the  principles  of  his  calling,  and  in  so  far  as  he  has 
his  own  experiences  and  those  of  his  fellow-craftsmen 
reduced  to  principles  and  thoroughly  organized,  just  so 


EXPERIENCE  FUNCTIONING  AS  JUDGMENT     1 37 

far  will  he  be  likely  to  hit  upon  that  experience  that  will 
help  him  the  most  in  any  particular  case.  In  other 
words,  the  practical  judgment  of  the  servant  will  be 
replaced  by  a  much  more  elaborate  judgment,  depending 
upon  a  more  thorough  elaboration  and  correlation  not 
only  of  the  physician's  individual  experiences,  but  also 
of  that  vast  mass  of  race  experience  from  which  the 
underlying  principles  of  surgery  are  drawn. 

The  operation  of  the  conceptual  judgment,  then,  in- 
volves two  new  factors,  (a)  It  is  obvious  that  expe- 
riences that  function  effectively  in  such  judgments  must 
be  condensed.  All  the  detailed  experiences  that  bear 
upon  a  given  situation  cannot  be  recalled,  each  in  its 
concrete  particularity,  as  was  the  experience  that  the 
servant  applied.  If  such  a  procedure  were  necessary, 
the  patient  would  die  —  if  not  from  his  wound,  at  least 
from  old  age  —  before  the  physician  came  to  a  decision. 
The  necessity,  then,  for  some  form  of  abridgment  or 
condensation  is  apparent,  (b)  A  vast  number  of  expe- 
riences bearing  upon  a  particular  case  implies  a  great 
diversity  in  the  details  of  the  separate  experiences.  Per- 
haps the  point  that  will  help  the  physician  the  most  will 
be  enmeshed  in  a  complex  of  experiences  that  have  very 
little  superficial  or  qualitative  resemblance  to  the  situa- 
tion in  question  —  experiences  gained  in  the  laboratory, 
it  may  be,  where  their  relation  to  the  treatment  of  bums 
was  never  even  hinted  at.  In  brief,  as  experiences  be- 
come massed  and  condensed,  the  relations  between  them 


138  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

become  less  and  less  superficial  and  more  and  more 
penetrating  and  fundamental.  The  point  of  contact  is 
no  longer  a  surface-resemblance,  but  a  deep,  abiding, 
underlying  principle,  essence,  around  which  the  various 
experiences,  so  diverse  in  themselves,  are  clustered. 

This  condensation  of  experiences  is  made  possible 
through  the  formation  of  concepts  which,  in  a  sense,  take 
the  place  of,  stand  for,  particular  experiences.  It  is 
because  this  form  of  judgment  depends  upon  the  con- 
densing virtues  of  the  concept  that  it  is  termed  the  "con- 
ceptual judgment."  This  process  of  condensation  and 
the  advantage  which  it  gives  in  adjustment  to  the  envi- 
ronment must  now  be  considered  in  some  detaiL 


CHAPTER  DC 

The  Condensation  of  Experiences  and  the  For- 
mation OF  Concepts 

I.  The  efficiency  of  the  conceptual  judgment  depends 
upon  the  condensation  of  experience,  but  this  conden- 
sation is  not  a  mere  compressing;  it  is  rather  a  picking 
out  of  the  salient,  the  prominent,  the  significant  features, 
and  the  casting  aside  of  those  features  that  are  merely 
accessory.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  an  experience  is  never 
revived  in  its  entirety.  The  term  "concrete"  is,  there- 
fore, strictly  relative.  It  simply  means  that  the  original 
experience  has  been  condensed  in  a  minimal  degree.  An 
accurate  analysis  of  a  vast  number  of  experiences  would 
doubtless  reveal  all  degrees  of  condensation  and  abridg- 
ment from  what  we  have  termed  the  concrete  idea  to 
the  most  abstract  concept.  The  effective  use  of  experi- 
ence, however,  depends  in  no  small  degree  upon  the 
extent  to  which  it  has  been  condensed.  Concrete  ideas 
are,  at  best,  clumsy  contrivances.  They  are  readily 
recalled  only  under  exceptional  conditions;  their  salient 
features  are  necessarily  superficial;  and  their  very  mas- 
siveness,  so  to  speak,  interferes  with  their  effective  use. 

139 


140  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

2.  The  practical  judgment,  as  we  have  seen,  impliea 
some  capacity  for  analysis  and  synthesis,  and  only  those 
animals  that  can  hold  parts  of  experiences  in  a  definite 
relation  to  one  another  are  capable  of  making  such  judg- 
ments. A  still  higher  stage  of  mental  development  is 
essential  to  the  formation  of  a  concept,  because  the  analy- 
ses must  be  much  more  minute  and  the  syntheses  much 
more  comprehensive.  There  must  be  capacity  to  look 
at  experiences  apart  from  immediate  ends,  and  this, 
it  is  clear,  may  involve  a  high  grade  of  active  attention. 
Finally,  there  must  be  some  convenient  symbol  that  will 
form  the  link  between  various  experiences,  represent- 
ing the  relation  which  analysis  has  revealed  and  upon 
which  synthesis  must  work.  Until  an  animal  has  devel- 
oped a  symbohsm  that  will  permit  delicate  variations 
to  represent  equally  deUcate  shades  or  nuances  of 
experience,  the  conceptual  judgment  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that  man  should  be 
the  sole  possessor  of  this  prerogative. 

The  word  represents  the  concept  which,  in  turn,  stands 
for  a  relation  binding  together,  representing,  a  greater 
or  smaller  number  of  concrete  experiences.  But  while 
words  normally  represent  masses  of  experience  once 
actualized  in  the  concrete,  they  can  be  combined  in  vari- 
ous ways,  thus  making  possible  constructive  results 
to  which  no  previous  experience  corresponds.  Man 
is  consequently  able,  not  only  to  face  present  situations 
in  the  light  of  past  experience,  but  also  to  look  into  the 


THE   CONDENSATION    OF   EXPERIENCES  I4I 

future  and  govern  action  with  reference  to  remote  ends. 
Thus  active  attention  and  the  concept-forming  capac- 
ity reciprocally  benefit  one  another. 

Hobhouse's  treatment^  of  this  stage  of  mental  growth  is 
especially  clarifying.  He  defines  a  concept  in  the  following 
words :  "  When  an  element  common  to  many  experiences  is 
not  merely  recognized  when  it  appears,  but  (i)  is  thought  of 
without  being  perceived,  and  (2)  is  capable  of  being  combined 
in  thought  with  other  elements,  it  becomes  a  concept  of  general 
meaning  and  application.  To  be  a  general  concept,  the  ele- 
ment must  be  something  for  consciousness  apart  from  its  per- 
ceptual setting,  and  it  must  be  applicable  to  a  different  setting." 

3.  Concepts  have  been  variously  classified  by  various 
authorities.  While  it  is  not  pertinent  to  our  purpose 
to  review  these  classes  at  this  time,  it  will  be  helpful 
to  consider  briefly  two  of  them  for  the  sake  of  the  light 
that  they  throw  upon  the  nature  of  the  concept  in  general. 

(a)  Collective  Concepts.  These  are  represented  in  language 
most  typically  by  the  common  nouns.  Having  the  capacity 
for  analysis,  we  are  enabled  to  "know"  objects  as  definite 
parts  of  experience.  Certain  objects  have  certain  features  in 
common.  They  may  differ  in  many  respects,  but  there  is 
something  that  combines  them  into  a  class.  This  constant 
common  quality  we  perceive  as  a  relation  and  represent  by 
a  name.  Thereafter  we  are  enabled  to  deal  with  the  name,  — 
to  use  the  name,  —  as  representing  the  class,  as  standing  for  a 
mass  of  similar  experiences. 

It  is  clear  that  the  greater  the  number  of  objects  included 
under  the  concept,  the  fewer  will  be  the  common  quaUties  that 
the  concept  connotes,  and  the  more  "abstract"  will  be  the 

^  Hobhouse,  op,  cit.,  p.  292. 


142  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

relation  that  is  designated.  The  spreading-out  of  the  concept 
over  a  number  of  individual  objects  is  technically  known  as 
its  extension ;  the  common  qualities  that  it  represents  form  its 
intension.  Therefore  the  extension  and  intension  of  a  collec- 
tive concept  always  bear  an  inverse  relation  to  one  another,  — 
the  greater  the  extension,  the  less  the  intension,  and  vice  versa. 
The  concept  horse,  for  example,  possesses  more  intension  and 
less  e  [tension  than  the  concept  vertebrate,  and  so  on.  This 
distir.ction  is  somewhat  important  from  an  educational  stand- 
point. 

{V)  Individual  Concepts.  These  are  typically  represented 
1  y  particular  names  or  proper  nouns.^  That  such  words  stand 
for  condensed  experiences  is,  perhaps,  not  obvious  at  first 
glance.  Formal  logic  has  accustomed  us  to  think  of  the  con- 
cept as  something  abstracted  from  several  objects,  rather  than 
from  several  experiences.  But  it  is  plainly  apparent  that  our 
knowledge  of  an  object  varies  with  our  experiences  with  that 
object. 

For  example,  my  friend,  Mr.  Smith,  is  an  individual;  but 
my  knowledge  of  him  is  a  product  of  several  experiences  that 
I  have  had  with  him.  My  concept  of  Mr.  Smith,  represented 
by  his  name,  is  really  a  condensation  of  these  experiences.  I 
have  seen  him  at  different  times,  talked  with  him  upon  different 
subjects,  gained  thereby  an  insight  into  different  phases  and 
aspects  of  his  "  nature."  My  concept  has  gradually  changed 
during  all  this  time.  Particulars  and  details  have  been  cut 
out,  and  only  permanent  features  remain.  These  constitute  a 
thread  of  continuity  or  identity  running  through  the  details  of 
various  experiences,  and  to  this  thread  I  attach  the  symbol,  his 
name. 

1  "  The  individual  marked  by  a  proper  name  is  a  universal.  Any  indi- 
vidual man,  John  Jones  or  Richard  Roe,  is  a  unity  of  manifold  states, 
qualities,  activities,  and  relations.  .  .  .  The  proper  name  marks  the  con- 
necting unity."  —  Baldwin  and  Stout,  in  Diet,  of  Philosophy^  etc.,  art 
**  Conception." 


THE   CONDENSATION   OF   EXPERIENCES  1 43 

Perhaps  there  will  come  up  with  his  name,  when  I  speak  of 
him  or  hear  him  spoken  of,  an  image  of  his  face  ;  perhaps  even 
a  picture  or  image  of  him,  as  he  appeared  at  some  particular 
time  and  place.  But  if  one  or  another  of  these  "constant 
associates  "  ^  does  occur,  it  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  what 
the  name  is, — a  symbol.  If,  for  example,  my  constant  associ- 
ate with  Mr.  Smith's  name  is  an  image  of  him  as  he  appeared 
at  a  social  gathering,  and  if  this  is  revived  when  I  speak  of 
him  as  being  seriously  ill,  my  meaning  will  not  be  obscured, 
although  intrinsically  the  idea  of  serious  illness  would  seem 
naturally  to  require  an  image  of  him  as  he  would  appear  in 
the  sick  room,  rather  than  an  image  of  him  at  a  social  gather- 
ing. But  the  use  of  a  concept  in  a  judgment  does  not  neces- 
sarily involve  any  definite  and  consistent  imagery  which  would, 
in  itself,  represent  that  judgment.  If  it  did,  the  capacity 
for  condensing  experience  would  mean  very  little  to  mental 
development. 

4.  The  Concept  of  Self.  One  of  the  best  examples 
of  the  individual  concept  is  the  concept  of  self.  The 
mental  content  represented  by  the  pronoun  /  is  just  as 
thoroughly  a  product  of  condensation  as  is  the  concept 
of  any  other  individual.  I  have  a  social  self,  a  family 
self,  a  professional  self,  and,  in  virtue  of  my  inherited 
tendencies,  a  primitive  self.  Each  of  these  represents, 
in  a  certain  measure,  a  distinct  individual.  I  have 
different  attitudes,  different  dispositions,  different  ways 
of  looking  at  things,  according  as  one  or  another  of  these 
subordinate  selves  is  dominant.  But  all  through  these 
subordinate  concepts  there  runs  a  thread  of  unity.     Some- 

1  See  W.  C.  Bagley,  in  American  Journal  of  Psychology,  1900,  vol.  xii, 
p.  120. 


144  "^HE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

times,  perhaps,  this  may  be  a  very  slender  thread  and, 
in  pathological  conditions,  it  may  be  broken  off  altogether. 
But  normally  it  is  a  thread  which,  in  spite  of  whatever 
efforts  one  may  make  at  modesty,  is  bound  to  be  the 
largest  and  most  comprehensive  of  one's  concepts.  It 
is  with  reference  to  this  ultimate  self  that  all  the  activi- 
ties of  one's  life  are  ordered,  either  explicitly  or  implic- 
itly. Morality  has  been  termed  the  subordination  of 
individual  impulses  to  remote  social  ends;  but  morality 
is  possible  only  when  these  social  ends  can  be  identified 
with  the  highest  and  most  permanent  interests  of  the 
ultimate  self. 

5.  Concepts  and  Apperceptive  Systems.  An  apper- 
ceptive system  was  defined  in  an  earher  chapter  ^  as  a 
mass  of  experience  functioning  in  a  condensed  form. 
There  is  an  obvious  correspondence  between  the  sub- 
ordinate concepts  of  self,  mentioned  in  the  last  para- 
graph, and  the  larger  apperceptive  systems  discussed  in 
the  earlier  chapter.  Not  only  the  concepts  of  self,  how- 
ever, but  every  concept  is  an  apperceptive  system;  a 
concept  is  an  apperceptive  system  made  explicit  —  made 
self-conscious.  In  the  process  of  simple  apperception, 
the  operating  systems  are  in  the  background  or  margin 
of  consciousness;  in  the  process  of  judgment,  which 
is  only  a  more  complete,  more  elaborate  form  of  apper- 
ception, the  operating  systems  are  brought  into  the  fore- 
ground.   In  the  conceptual  judgment,  the  apperceptive 

^  Cb.  T,  above. 


THE    CONDENSATION    OF    EXPERIENCES  I45 

systems  are,  for  purposes  of  convenient  representation, 
attached  to  words  or  symbols.  The  word  thus  becomes 
the  jocal  representative  oj  the  apperceptive  system.  One 
can  deal  with  the  word  or  concept  precisely  as  one  could 
deal  with  any  of  the  concrete  experiences  from  which 
it  has  been  derived  if  the  latter  were  represented  con- 
sciously by  its  original  sense  ingredients. 

It  should  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  back  of  the  word  is 
the  marginal  "  halo,"  or  fringe  of  relations,  which  "  carries  the 
meaning,"  and  in  which  the  kinaesthetic  sensations,  represent- 
ing as  they  do  the  constant  factors  in  experience,  occupy  a 
prominent  place.  Except  from  the  standpoint  of  genesis,  how- 
ever, these  marginal  elements  may  be  largely  left  out  of  account ; 
one  may  deal  with  words  precisely  as  if  they  were,  as  they 
seem  to  be,  the  sole  representatives,  —  the  attenuated  shadows, 
—  of  the  original  experience.  But  the  standpoint  of  genesis 
is  the  very  standpoint  with  which  education  is  concerned.  It 
is  our  business  to  know  how  these  apperceptive  systems  are 
formed  and  how  the  words  that  represent  them  come  to  fvmc- 
tion  effectively. 

Professor  Gore  ^  emphasizes  clearly  the  importance  of  the 
marginal  residua  of  past  experiences :  "  The  conceptualist  has 
contributed  to  the  data  of  descriptive  psychology  by  calling 
attention,  by  implication  at  least,  to  the  remote  and  reduced 
character  of  the  imagery  which  may  characterize  thinking.  But 
it  by  no  means  follows  that  the  more  remote  and  reduced  the 
sense-content  of  an  image  becomes,  the  less  important  is  that 
sense-content  for  thinking,  the  less  demand  for  discrimination. 
On  the  contrary,  the  sense-content  that  remains  may  be  of 
supreme  logical  importance.     It  may  be  the  quintessence  of 

*  W.  C.  Gore :  "  Image  and  Idea  in  Logic,"  in  Dewey's  Studies  in 
Logic<U  Theory^  pp.  201-202. 


146  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

meaning.  It  may  be  the  conscious  factor  which,  when  dis« 
criminated  from  another  almost  equally  sublimated  conscious 
factor,  may  determine  a  whole  course  of  action.  The  delicacy 
and  rapidity  with  which  these  reduced  forms  of  imagery  as  they 
hover  about  the  margin  of  consciousness  or  flit  across  its  focus 
are  discriminated  and  caught,  are  points  in  the  technique  of 
that  long  art  of  thinking,  begun  in  early  childhood.  The  fact 
that  questionnaire  investigations  —  like  that  of  Galton's,  for 
example  —  have  in  many  instances  failed  to  discover  in  the 
minds  of  scientists  and  advanced  thinkers  a  rich  and  varied 
furniture  of  imagery  does  not  argue  the  poverty  of  imagery  in 
such  minds ;  it  argues  rather  a  highly  developed  technique,  a 
species  of  virtuosity,  with  reference  to  the  sense-content  of  the 
types  of  imagery  actually  in  use.'' 

To  put  this  in  another  way,  one  may  say  that,  in  the  early 
years  of  childhood,  the  words  used  are  always  associated  with 
concrete  imagery.  In  adult  life,  also,  in  dealing  with  unfamiliar 
subjects,  the  tendency  to  supplement  the  word  with  concrete 
imagery  is  very  strong.  But  with  practice  in  the  use  of  words, 
the  imagery  becomes  more  and  more  schematic,  more  and 
more  symbolic,  more  and  more  representative  and  connota- 
tive,  until  a  point  is  reached  where  the  expert  in  a  certain 
field  images  very  little,  perhaps  not  at  all  so  far  as  he  can 
discover.* 

6.  Concept  Building  in  Education.  An  important  task 
of  education  is  to  lead  the  pupil  to  condense  his  experi- 
ences and  attach  symbols  to  the  concepts  thus  formed. 
The   fundamental    principle   that   governs    this    process 

*  See,  in  this  connection,  Titchener's  remarks  upon  the  word-idea : 
Outline  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1899,  pp.  309  f{.;  H.  M.  Stanley: 
"Language  and  Image,"  in  Psychological  Review,  1897,  ^°^'  ^^>  P-  7^5 
G.  F.  Stout :  Groundwork  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1903,  oh.  x;  W.  G 
Bagley :  "  Apperception  of  the  Spoken  Sentence,"  in  American  Journal 
of  Psychology,  1900,  vol.  xii,  p.  119. 


THE  CONDENSATION  OF  EXPERIENCES      I47 

has  been  recognized  almost  from  the  beginning,  —  reo 
ognized  in  theory  but  often  sadly  neglected  in  practice. 
This  principle  is  formulated  in  the  pedagogical  maxim: 
"Proceed  from  particulars  to  generals  and  from  the 
concrete  to  the  abstract."  Rightly  interpreted,  this 
dictum  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  rational  instruction.  It 
means  that  there  is  no  way  to  reach  concepts  that  will 
function  efficiently,  save  through  a  series  of  experiences 
beginning  with  the  concrete  and  particular  and  passing 
gradually  through  the  various  stages  of  condensation. 
There  is  no  "royal  road  to  learning,"  and  there  is  no 
short  cut  to  the  concept. 

But  the  principle  must  mean  concrete  and  particular 
experiences  and  not  necessarily  concrete  and  particular 
objects.  Mind  passes  "naturally"  from  particulars  to 
generals,  if  one  means  by  these  terms  particular  expe- 
riences and  general  concepts.  But  the  term  "particu- 
lars" must  not  be  confused  with  the  term  "details." 
Mind  does  not  move  normally  from  details  to  masses; 
it  does  not  work  synthetically  alone,  but  first  analyti- 
cally and  then  synthetically.  The  concrete  experience 
in  the  first  place  is  vague  and  homogeneous;  by  the 
operation  of  analysis  and  synthesis  it  is  made  definite 
and  heterogeneous.  The  large,  undifferentiated  mass 
is  the  beginning;  the  large  unity,  made  up  of  connected 
and  interrelated  parts,  is  the  terminus. 

The  vague,  undifferentiated  masses  or  wholes  which 
constitute   concrete   experiences   are   technically   termed 


148  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

"aggregate  ideas."  Any  given  situation  of  which  per- 
ception informs  us  is  a  type  of  the  aggregate  idea.  We 
break  it  up  into  parts,  perceive  relations  between  these 
parts  and  similar  elements  of  past  experience,  and  form 
a  judgment,  a  synthesis.  Obviously  we  can  do  the  same 
with  an  ideal  experience  as  well  as  with  the  real  perceived 
situation.  We  may  have  in  mind  an  aggregate  made 
up  entirely  of  old  materials  and  subject  it  to  analysis 
and  synthesis  in  a  similar  manner.  The  term  "  aggre- 
gate idea"  is  a  convenient  designation  and  will  be  fre- 
quently employed  in  the  subsequent  discussions. 

7.  The  duty  of  the  teacher  in  the  process  of  concept 
building  is  to  see  to  it  that  the  process  of  condensation 
is  not  taken  for  granted,  but  actually  worked  out.  The 
individual  must  be  subjected  to  a  number  of  experi- 
ences of  the  concrete  order  and  led  consciously  to  make 
the  analyses,  comparisons,  and  abstractions  that  are  nec- 
essary to  the  formation  of  the  concept. 

Consider,  for  example,  the  concept  river  system.  By  the 
approved  method  of  teaching  geography,  a  single  river  system 
is  studied  as  a  type.  If  possible,  this  will  be  one  with  which 
the  pupils  can  deal  directly,  of  which  they  can  have  first-hand 
knowledge.  If  this  is  the  case,  they  will  observe  the  various 
features  of  the  river  system  from  as  many  points  of  vantage  as 
possible.  They  will  represent  what  they  see  in  various  ways  — 
by  drawing,  by  modeling,  by  picturing,  by  describing.  From 
all  their  experiences  with  this  typical  river  system,  they  will 
gain  somewhat  of  a  "  general "  idea  —  a  condensed  experience. 
But  this  idea  will  have  been  condensed  from  experiences,  not 
from  objects.     For  a  long  time  they  will  deal  with  one  river 


THE    CONDENSATION    OF    EXPERIENCES  I49 

system ;  yet,  when  the  term  is  applied,  it  will  represent  a  con- 
cept just  as  truly  as  if  they  had  compared  a  hundred  different 
river  systems,  abstracted  the  common  qualities,  and  built  up 
the  general  notion  in  the  highly  artificial  manner  described  in 
the  older  treatises  on  educational  psychology.  Certainly  this 
typical  river  system  will  be  compared  with  others  as  geographi- 
cal instruction  continues,  and  the  concept  will  be  gradually 
extended,  losing,  at  the  same  time,  some  of  its  intensive  char- 
acters. The  point  that  is  to  be  emphasized  in  this  connection, 
however,  is  that  the  pupil  may  gain  a  working  concept  through 
the  study  of  a  single  type. 

The  grievous  error  of  the  older  method  of  teaching  arithmetic 
was,  that  it  assumed  the  concepts  of  number  and  dealt  entirely 
with  the  symbols  that  represent  the  concepts.  This  naturally 
led  to  a  barren  formahsm  in  instruction,  —  a  formalism  to 
which  number  symbols  lend  themselves  all  too  readily.^  Cer- 
tainly one  who  has  constantly  to  deal  with  numbers  must  come 
in  course  of  time  to  manipulate  figures  with  little  conscious  ref- 
erence to  their  concrete  bases.  But  one  who  would  effectively 
use  number  concepts  in  this  fine  degree  of  condensation  must 
first  build  up  these  concepts  through  a  long  series  of  concrete 
experiences  with  the  particular  data  that  they  represent. 

It  is  in  arithmetic  that  this  danger  of  neglecting  to  pass 
through  the  preliminary  stages  of  concept  building  is  most 
clearly  revealed,  but  other  subjects  of  instruction  have  not 
been  free  from  the  bhght  of  formalism.  The  "  memoriter " 
method  of  learning  geography,  grammar,  and  history  is  even 
now  all  too  common.  Learning  words  "  by  heart "  still  has  its 
place  in  education,  but  its  sphere  is  restricted,  and  the  process 
must  be  rigidly  subject  to  certain  general  principles  that  will 
be  discussed  in  a  later  section. 

^  How  the  introduction  of  the  Hindu  system  of  notation,  convenient 
and  time-saving  as  it  proved  to  be,  opened  the  way  for  formalism  in  arith- 
metic teaching  is  clearly  shown  by  Professor  D.  E.  Smith :  Teaching  oj 
Elementary  Mathematics,  New  York,  19CXJ,  ch.  iv. 


150  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

8.  To  summarize:  (a)  The  process  of  condensation 
must  work  through  concrete  experience,  (b)  The  ef- 
fective use  of  the  word  as  the  focal  representative  of  an 
apperceptive  system  is  conditioned  entirely  upon  the 
faithfulness  with  which  the  details  of  this  condensing 
process  have  been  carried  out.  (c)  For  some  time 
the  word  will  tend  to  be  supplemented  by  more  or  less 
concrete  imagery  revived  from  the  particular  experiences 
to  which  it  is  referred,  (d)  The  most  ejffective  use  of 
words,  however,  demands  that  this  concrete  imagery 
be  reduced  to  a  minimum;  that  the  sensory  components 
of  the  apperceptive  system  retire  to  the  margin  of  con- 
sciousness; and  that  the  word  become  the  sole  focal 
representative. 


PART  IV.     THE  ORGANIZATION  AND 
RECALL   OF   EXPERIENCE 

CHAPTER  X 

Thf  Organization  of  Experiences  through  Con- 
ceptual Judgments 

I.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  judgment  is  essen- 
tially an  adaptation,  an  act;  and  this  is  true  whether 
the  judgment  be  of  the  practical  or  of  the  conceptual 
type.  The  physician  who  solves  the  situation  with  a 
conceptual  judgment  uses  his  experience  as  an  instru- 
ment for  directing  adjustment  just  as  truly  as  the  servant 
who  solves  the  situation  with  a  practical  judgment. 
In  the  latter  case,  experience  is  recalled  in  a  concrete 
and  particular  form;  in  the  former  case,  it  is  recalled 
in  a  condensed  and  symbohc  form. 

Not  only  real  situations,  however,  but  also  ideal  or 
imagined  situations  may  be  solved  by  a  process  of  judg- 
ment. The  physician  may  have  a  fairly  accurate  report 
of  the  case  before  starting  from  his  office,  and  on  his 
way  he  may  picture  the  situation  and  arrive  at  practi- 
cally the  judgment  that  he  would  have  reached  had  he 
waited  for  the  real  situation  to  be  presented.  Or,  in 
his  earlier  days,  he  may  have  "thought  out"  an  imagi- 


152  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

nary  case  of  a  similar  nature  and  arrived  at  a  judg- 
ment that  could  afterward  be  applied  to  a  real  situation. 
Or,  again,  he  may  have  looked  up  the  matter  in  a  surgi- 
cal treatise  before  leaving  his  ofl&ce  and  appropriated 
the  conceptual  judgment  which  the  author  of  the  treatise 
recommended  as  a  solution  of  such  a  situation. 

In  other  words,  the  finished  product  oj  a  conceptual 
judgment  may  itself  junction  as  a  condensed  experience 
in  facing  new  situations.  The  average  man  has  at  his 
command  a  number  of  judgments  already  made.  He 
has  come  into  possession  of  these  in  various  ways :  some 
he  has  worked  out  for  himself,  some  he  has  gained  in 
social  intercourse,  some  are  due  to  his  reading.  How 
he  has  gained  them  we  shall  find  to  be  a  very  impor- 
tant factor  in  their  eflfective  use.  In  the  present  connec- 
tion, however,  it  is  enough  to  know  that  they  can  be 
used.  The  repeated  appUcation  of  a  "preformed" 
judgment,  however,  does  not  involve  so  complicated  a 
process  as  that  required  for  its  first  elaboration.  Indeed 
the  application  of  these  preformed  judgments  may  fre- 
quently approximate  the  operation  of  habit.  Inasmuch, 
however,  as  the  process  is  normally  focal,  it  may  be 
termed  a  judgment;  that  is,  the  application  of  a 
preformed  judgment  to  a  given  situation  is  in  itself  a 
judgment,  for  it  is  the  conscious  apphcation  of  past 
experience  to  a  present  problem. 

2.  Reasoning.  This  distinction  furnishes  a  basis  for 
an  adequate  definition  of  reasoning.    Essentially,  it  is 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  EXPERIENCES      1 53 

the  formation  of  a  judgment  "out  of  the  whole  cloth," 
—  the  solution  of  a  new  experience  in  an  entirely  new 
way.  The  physician  of  long  practice  will  make  a  rapid 
examination  of  the  condition  in  which  he  finds  his  pa- 
tient and  immediately  come  to  the  judgment,  "This  is 
malarial  fever,"  or  "This  bum  must  be  dressed  with 
a  dry  bandage."  The  thinking,  the  reasoning,  that 
such  a  process  involves  is  scarcely  more  strenuous  than 
that  of  the  layman  who  casually  remarks  that  it  is  a  fine 
day.  But  somewhere  and  at  some  time  the  physician 
had  to  go  through  a  severe  course  of  reasoning  in  order 
to  arrive  at  such  a  judgment.  Even  now,  in  very  novel 
or  very  critical  cases  he  would  do  so. 

It  is  very  easy  to  become  confused  upon  this  point.  Formal 
logic  recognizes  syntheses  of  subjects  and  predicates  as  judg- 
ments, and  syntheses  of  judgments  as  reasoning,  whenever  cer- 
tain formal  conditions  are  fulfilled.  Any  grammatical  sentence 
fulfills  such  conditions,  therefore  any  grammatical  sentence 
may  be  looked  upon  as  a  judgment.  To  the  psychologist  a 
grammatical  sentence  may  represent  a  judgment,  but  this  does 
not  in  the  least  imply  that  the  capacity  to  put  words  together 
grammatically  means  the  capacity  for  judgment. 

This  point  is  well  brought  out  by  Professor  Titchener^  in 
the  following  paragraph :  — 

"  Man  has  dubbed  himself  homo  sapiens,  and  defined  him- 
self as  a  *  rational  animal ' ;  but  he  rarely  thinks.  For  we  are, 
all  of  us,  bom  into  a  society  where  judgments  await  us  ready- 
made  ;  every  generation  receives  a  heritage  of  judgments  from 
the  preceding  generations.  Hence  facts  that  cost  our  ancestors 
immense  pains  to  work  out  come  to  us  as  a  matter  of  course. 

1  E,  B.  Titchener:  Primer  of  Psychtlogy,  p.  217. 


154  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

Society  is  already  organized ;  then  we  do  not  need  to  make 
judgments  about  social  organization.  A  form  of  religion  is 
established ;  we  need  not  judge  for  ourselves  in  religious  mat- 
ters. A  code  of  conduct  has  been  laid  down;  we  need  not 
judge  in  matters  of  conduct.  The  applications  of  scientific 
principles  are  seen  all  about  us,  —  we  may  take  the  steam- 
engine  and  the  telegraph  for  granted.  Life  is  made  smooth 
for  us  by  the  accumulated  work  of  past  generations.  ,  .  .  It 
follows  from  this  that  propositions  Hke,  '  The  grass  is  green ' 
are  not  judgments  at  all ;  they  do  not  express  results  that  we 
have  gained  laboriously  by  active  attention." 

Miss  Thompson^  has  also  called  attention  to  this  distinc- 
tion :  "  A  large  portion  of  the  so-called  judgments  considered 
by  logicians,  even  by  those  who  emphasize  that  a  judgment  is 
an  act,  are  really  not  judgments  at  all,  but  contents  of  thought 
which  are  the  outcome  of  judgments  —  what  might  be  called 
dead  judgments,  instead  of  live  judgments.  When  we  analyze 
a  real  act  of  judgment,  as  it  occurs  in  a  living  process  of 
thought,  we  find  given  elements  which  are  always  present. 
There  is  always  a  certain  situation  which  demands  a  reaction." 

3.  Reasoning,  then,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  is 
a  relatively  rare  process  and  occurs  only  in  the  formation 
of  a  judgment  de  novo.  In  the  great  bulk  of  our  daily 
activities,  we  apply  ready-made  judgments  to  the  situa- 
tions presented,  rather  than  analyze  the  situations  and 
form  therefrom  entirely  new  judgments.  In  the  former 
case,  however,  there  will  be  something  of  the  process  of 
judgment,  only  much  less  complex  than  the  more  elabo- 
rate process  for  which  the  term  "reasoning"  has  been 
reserved.    A  term  is   needed,   therefore,   to   cover  this 

1  Helen  Bradford  Thompson,  op.  cit.,  p.  108. 


THE   ORGANIZATION   OF    EXPERIENCES  I55 

application  of  preformed  judgments  to  given  situations, 
—  a  term  that  will  cover  the  middle  ground  between  the 
automatic  functioning  of  experience  as  habit  and  the  maxi- 
mally conscious  functioning  of  experience  as  reasoning. 

Professor  McLennan^  has  used  the  term  intuitive 
judgment  to  designate  a  class  of  this  intermediate  type 
This  class  is  exemplified  in  the  manner  in  which  an 
expert  responds  to  a  situation  as  contrasted  with  the 
reaction  of  a  novice  or  a  layman. 

"To  the  intuitive  judgment  there  is  no  hesitation,  no  aloof- 
ness. Action  is  direct,  but  entirely  self-conscious.  That  such 
a  type  of  judgment  as  the  intuitive  exists,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  There  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  the 
quality  of  consciousness  of  a  mere  layman  and  that  of  an  expert, 
no  matter  what  the  line.  It  is  a  process  whose  parts  are  suc- 
cessive, whether  much  or  little  difficulty  be  experienced.  For 
the  expert  situations  are  taken  in  at  a  glance,  parts  and  wholes 
are  simultaneous  and  immediate.  Yet  the  meaning  is  entirely 
exact.  The  expert  judgment  is  self-conscious  to  the  last  de- 
gree. While  other  individuals  are  thinking  out  what  they  do, 
the  expert  has  it,  sees  the  advantage,  adjusts,  and  moves.  De- 
mand and  solution  jump  together.  .  .  .  Only  in  so  far  as  we 
become  experts  in  our  special  fields  of  experience,  and  have 
reduced  our  instruments  of  action  to  precise  control,  can  we 
expect  the  presence  of  intuitive  judgments.  They  remain, 
therefore,  as  the  final  outcome  of  the  judgment-function  made 
perfect  in  its  technique  and  use." 

The  term  intuitive  seems  to  be  an  excellent  desig- 
nation for  this  type  of  judgment,  for  it  implies  that  the 

1  S,  F.  McLennan :  "  Stages  in  the  Development  of  Judgment,"  in 
Dewey's  Studies  in  Logical  Theory,  pp.  139  ff. 


156  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

process  has  a  certain  resemblance  to  habit.  It  differs 
from  the  judgment  of  reasoning,  —  which  Professor 
McLennan  aptly  terms  "reflective,"  —  in  that  the  inter- 
vening stages  of  analysis  and  synthesis  have  been  left 
out  or  reduced  to  a  minimum  —  the  "reasoning"  has 
been  eliminated.  As  the  author  puts  it,  "Demand  and 
solution  jump  together,"  "Situations  are  taken  in  at  a 
glance,  parts  and  wholes  are  simultaneous  and  immedi- 
ate J^  The  term  seems  thoroughly  adequate  also  to 
cover  the  application  to  existing  situations  of  most  of 
the  preformed  judgments  gained  through  social  heredity, 
—  the  commonplaces  of  everyday  conversation.  This 
is  the  field  where  we  are  all  experts,  as  it  were;  or,  at 
least,  where  only  little  children  and  savages  are  laymen. 

Professor  McLennan  would  doubtless  prefer  to  identify  these 
last-named  judgments  with  what  he  terms  the  impersonal  type. 
But,  as  he  points  out,  there  is  a-  clear  resemblance  between  the 
impersonal  and  intuitive  forms ;  and,  inasmuch  as  the  multipli- 
cation of  technical  terms  must  be  avoided  as  far  as  possible  in 
a  work  of  this  kind,  it  may  be  safe  to  neglect  the  differences, 
and  to  consider  the  two  forms  as  identical. 

4.  The  Aggregate  Idea  in  Reasoning.  The  process  of 
true  reasoning  —  the  formation  of  a  judgment  de  novo 
rather  than  the  application  of  a  preformed  judgment  —  in- 
volves what  has  already  been  referred  to  as  an  "aggregate 
idea."  This  is  a  more  or  less  vague,  more  or  less  undiffer- 
entiated mass,  represented  in  consciousness  by  concrete 
sense  materials,  "tags"  of  meaning,  disconnected  con- 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  EXPERIENCES       1 57 

cepts,  and,  if  one  is  facing  a  real  situation,  a  complex 
of  perceptual  elements.  The  process  of  reasoning  con- 
sists in  "working  over"  this  mass  in  active  attention, 
analyzing  it,  discovering  the  relations  that  exist  between 
its  several  parts,  and  reconstructing  the  whole  in  a  defi- 
nite judgment  or  series  of  judgments.^ 

5.  Logical  Reasoning.  Sometimes  the  materials  of 
the  aggregate  idea  consist  entirely  of  preformed  judg- 
ments. The  task  is  then  to  arrange  these  judgments 
in  logical  order,  —  that  is,  in  the  order  that  reveals  at 
a  glance  the  relation  between  them,  —  and  to  express 
this  relation  in  the  form  of  a  new  judgment.  All  this 
may,  of  course,  be  done  for  us  and  we  may  simply  bor- 
row the  result,  but,  in  case  we  do  it  for  ourselves,  we  are 
performing  an  act  of  logical  reasoning;  and  this  holds 
true  whether  the  judgments  with  which  we  deal  have 
themselves  been  borrowed  or  whether  we  have  worked 
them  out  for  ourselves  from  still  simpler  data. 

6.  Logical  reasoning  assumes  two  general  forms:  in- 
duction and  deduction.  In  a  process  of  inductive  reason- 
ing, one  passes  from  a  number  of  particular  judgments 
to  a  more  general  judgment;  one  recognizes  in  the  par- 
ticulars a  common  principle  which  one  abstracts  and 
generalizes.  The  process  is  similar  to  that  of  the  forma- 
tion of  concepts,  except  that  here  one  deals  with  con- 

^  A  very  good  illustration  of  a  process  of  true  reasoning  and  the  reduc- 
tion of  an  aggregate  idea  is  cited  by  Titchener  :  Primer  of  Psychology^ 
p.  217. 


158  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

densed  experiences  of  a  particular  nature,  rather  than 
with  concrete  experiences. 

The  formation  of  any  great  principle  of  natural  science  will 
illustrate  the  workings  of  inductive  reasoning.  Take,  for  ex- 
ample, the  law  that  eighteen  inches  of  rainfall  annually  is  the 
minimal  amount  that  will  support  agriculture  without  artificial 
irrigation.  This  is  a  generalization  drawn  from  a  number  of 
particular  judgments  regarding  the  influence  of  rainfall  upon 
agriculture  in  thousands  of  particular  instances.  Agriculture 
was  attempted  in  this  place  with  sixteen  inches  of  rainfall ;  it 
proved  a  failure.  In  another  place,  seventeen  inches  were 
available,  but  results  were  not  obtained.  In  this  locaHty,  twenty 
inches  of  rain  fell  during  the  year ;  agriculture  was  carried  on 
successfully  with  careful  cultivation.  Nineteen  inches  gave 
similar  results.  With  eighteen  inches,  let  us  say,  the  number 
of  successes  just  overtopped  the  number  of  failures.  Hence 
the  general  law.  All  the  important  principles  of  science  have 
been  gained  largely  in  this  way.  The  principle  of  gravitation 
and  the  law  of  evolution  are  perhaps  the  most  notable  examples. 

In  the  work  of  education,  we  make  frequent  use  of  induc- 
tive reasoning.  Take,  for  example,  the  simple  experiments 
performed  in  nature  study.  The  teacher  wishes  to  develop  in 
his  class  the  general  principle  that  the  germination  of  seeds 
depends  upon  moisture  and  warmth.  A  number  of  boxes  are 
provided,  in  each  of  which  similar  seeds  are  to  be  placed.  Two 
boxes  are  filled  with  damp  and  dry  loam,  others  with  damp  and 
dry  sand,  others  with  damp  and  dry  sponges,  others  with  damp 
and  dry  blotting  paper.  A  dupUcate  series  of  boxes  is  prepared 
in  precisely  the  same  way.  One  series  is  placed  in  a  warm  room, 
another  in  some  place  where  the  temperature  is  close  to  the 
freezing  point.  The  children  observe  the  behavior  of  the  seeds 
under  these  various  conditions.  Each  box  represents,  as  it 
were,  the  center  of  an  aggregate  idea,  out  of  which,  in  the 
course  of  time,  the  pupils  will  make  one  of  these  judgments : 


THE   ORGANIZATION    OF    EXPERIENCES  1 59 

"  The  seeds  in  this  box  germinate  in  damp  sand ; "  "  These 
seeds  do  not  germinate  in  dry  sand ; "  "  These  seeds  germinate 
in  damp  sand  in  a  warm  room ; "  "  These  seeds  do  not  ger- 
minate in  damp  sand  in  the  cold,"  etc.  Finally,  these  particular 
judgments  are  put  together  in  the  more  general  judgment,  or 
principle :  "  Moisture  and  warmth  are  necessary  to  the  ger- 
mination of  seeds."  In  a  similar  manner,  the  negative  judg- 
ment, "  Darkness  is  not  necessary  to  the  germination  of  seeds," 
or  the  judgment,  "  Light,  warmth,  and  moisture  are  essential 
to  the  growth  of  green  plants,"  may  be  reached,  each  repre- 
senting a  definite  act  of  inductive  reasoning  upon  the  basis  of 
particular  judgments  formed  from  actual  observation. 

7.  Deductive  reasoning  proceeds  from  a  general  judg- 
ment to  an  individual  or  less  general  judgment.  In  a 
sense,  it  is  an  explicit  application  of  a  principle  covering 
a  large  number  of  particular  cases  to  one  of  the  cases 
which  the  principle  covers.  It  is  represented  schemati- 
cally by  the  well-known  formula  of  the  syllogism :  — 

MisP, 
S  isM; 
therefore,    6"  is  P. 

Or,  as  it  is  worked  out  in  the  classic  example :  — 

All  men  are  mortal ; 
Socrates  is  a  man ; 
therefore,  Socrates  is  mortal. 

Deductive  reasoning  subserves  two  very  important 
functions  in  the  economy  of  Hfe:  (a)  the  function  of 
explanation  or  solution^  exemplified  when  one  identifies  an 
object  of  experience  as  a  member  of  a  still  larger  class, 
or  recognizes  a  process  as  the  expression  of  a  more  gen- 


l60  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

eral  law;  and  (b)  the  function  of  anticipation  or  predio 
tion,  exemplified  when  one  makes  a  judgment  about 
some  situation  with  which  direct,  sensuous  experience 
is  impossible,  or  in  the  solution  of  which  the  formation 
of  judgments  from  direct  experience  would  be  a  slow, 
laborious,  and  unprofitable  process. 

The  first  function  is  really  a  process  of  apperception,  in 
which  all  the  operating  apperceptive  systems  are  made  ex- 
plicit. A  situation  is  presented  which  baffles  the  individual 
for  the  moment.  He  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  it,  how  to 
relate  it  to  the  needs  of  his  life.  He  studies  it  carefully,  how- 
ever, and  finally  identifies  it  with  a  group  of  other  similar  phe- 
nomena which  are  described  by  a  certain  law  or  principle. 
Immediately  the  situation  "  clears  up."  The  operation  of  that 
particular  principle  has  a  definite  and  well-known  relation  to 
his  life.  The  mystery  is  solved  and  the  appropriate  adjust- 
ment results.  The  process  is  quite  similar  to  simple  apper- 
ception, except  that  it  is  long  drawn  out  and  thoroughly 
self-conscious  in  all  its  details. 

The  second  function  of  deductive  reasoning  is  illustrated 
typically  by  the  discovery  of  the  planet  Neptune.  The  planet 
Uranus  had  been  observed  for  several  years,  and  its  position  at 
successive  periods  of  any  given  year  could  be  predicted  with 
mathematical  certainty.  But  in  the  course  of  time  it  happened 
that  Uranus  failed  to  act  according  to  the  astronomers'  calcu- 
lations. John  Couch  Adams  argued  that  the  apparent  aberra- 
tions in  the  planet's  course  were  not  due  to  an  error  in  the 
previous  calculations,  as  many  supposed,  but  to  the  presence  of 
another  planet  beyond  Uranus.  During  the  same  year,  Lever- 
rier  reached  a  similar  conclusion,  maintaining  that,  by  all  the 
known  laws  of  celestial  mechanics,  the  behavior  of  Uranus 
could  be  explained  only  by  assuming  the  existence  of  a  large 
planet  beyond.     He  even  went  so  far  as  to  compute  the  orbit 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  EXPERIENCES      l6l 

of  this  hitherto  unknown  planet  from  the  data  furnished  by 
Uranus,  and  in  the  following  year  (1846)  the  planet  Neptune 
was  revealed  by  a  new  and  powerful  telescope  within  1°  of  the 
point  indicated. 

8.  The  great  majority  of  the  judgments  with  which 
education  furnishes  the  individual  are  useful  only  under 
the  condition  that  they  may  be  made  the  bases  of  deduc- 
tive reasoning;  and  the  paramount  problem  of  educa- 
tional method  is  to  determine  how  these  judgments  are 
to  be  imparted  in  order  most  efficiently  to  function  in 
this  way.  It  will  do  the  pupil  little  good,  for  instance,  if, 
after  learning  that  eighteen  inches  of  rainfall  are  essen- 
tial to  agriculture  without  irrigation,  he  joins  in  the  next 
wild  rush  to  populate  a  semi-arid  region  —  such  a  migra- 
tory movement,  perhaps,  as  that  witnessed  in  the  "boom" 
days  of  western  Kansas  and  Nebraska.  It  is  one  func- 
tion of  education  to  prevent  just  such  blunders. 

9.  The  Organization  of  Judgments.  When  a  vast 
number  of  experiences,  having  reference  to  some  defi- 
nite phase  of  life,  are  reduced  to  judgment  form,  corre- 
lated with  one  another,  and  combined  into  a  system, 
there  results  a  "body"  of  knowledge  or  a  science.  Thus 
every  science,  such  as  physics,  botany,  sociology,  is  a 
body  of  organized  and  interrelated  judgments  gained 
from  thousands  of  different  experiences  or  drawn  from 
more  general  judgments  which,  in  turn,  rest  upon  expe- 
rience. 

But   this   organization   and    systematization   of   judg- 


l62  THE   EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

ments,  no  matter  how  elaborately  it  may  be  worked  out, 
still  has  as  its  end  or  purpose  the  modification  of  adjust- 
ment. Improvement  in  the  organization  of  facts  and 
principles  means  that  they  are  more  closely  related  to 
one  another;  that,  instead  of  being  "massed,"  they  are 
shot  through  with  a  multitude  of  connections;  and  that, 
in  virtue  of  these  connections,  they  may  be  recalled 
most  readily  and  applied  most  effectively.  The  aim  of 
each  science  is  to  arrange  its  judgments  in  a  system, 
the  component  parts  of  which  shall  harmonize  perfectly 
with  one  another. 

As  Hobhouse  ^  points  out,  what  we  term  "  common  sense  " 
differs  from  scientific  thought  in  this  respect.  Common  sense 
cares  nothing  for  fine  distinctions  that  do  not  subserve  imme- 
diate practical  ends.  If  a  law  or  a  principle  "  works,"  that  in 
itself  is  sufficient.  That  laws  or  principles  may  be  logically 
inconsistent  with  one  another  fails  to  be  a  disturbing  factor. 
But  a  science  seeks  to  put  all  the  judgments  relating  to  its 
special  province  into  a  consistent  and  coherent  whole.  If 
they  do  not  harmonize,  their  premises  must  again  be  sought 
out,  subjected  to  new  and  more  rigid  analyses,  and  resynthe- 
tized.  Hence,  as  science  develops,  more  exact  and  more 
refined  methods  of  attacking  the  aggregate  idea  come  to  be 
applied.  There  is  greater  nicety  of  analysis  ;  greater  accuracy 
in  comparing,  measuring,  weighing ;  greater  care  in  drawing 
conclusions,  either  inductively  or  deductively. 

All  these  refinements  of  method  may  look,  on  the  surface, 
to  be  remotely  removed  from  what  one  terms  "  practical "  ends. 
One  speaks  of  the  efforts  of  science  to  build  up  coherent  sys- ' 
tems  of  knowledge  as  "  theoretical."     In  the  universities,  there 

^  L.  T.  Hobhouse :  Mind  in  Evolution,  pp.  329  ff. 


THE   ORGANIZATION    OF    EXPERIENCES  163 

are  scores  of  investigators  who  spend  their  time  over  what  seem 
at  first  glance  to  be  the  most  futile  problems,  —  problems  that 
appear  to  have  not  the  slightest  significance  to  the  vital  ques- 
tions of  life.  And  if  we  ask  these  investigators  why  they  spend 
priceless  time  in  solving  impractical  problems,  they  will  tell  us 
that  it  is  all  for  the  sake  of  truth,  and  that  they  care  nothing 
for  the  "  common-sense  "  estimate  of  their  work. 

But  truth  is  only  another  name  for  a  consistent  system  of 
judgments,  and  no  system  that  presents  gaps  or  lacunae  can  be 
thoroughly  complete.  Facts  and  principles  which  may  not 
have  a  practical  value  in  direct  application  to  the  situations  or 
problems  of  life  may  still  have  a  theoretical  value  in  bringing 
nearer  to  perfection  a  system  of  knowledge.  The  history  of 
civilization  sufficiently  demonstrates  that  experience  is  most 
effectively  applied  when  it  is  formulated  in  such  a  system ; 
hence  judgments  that  have  only  a  theoretical  value  at  the 
outset  may  ultimately,  through  devious  channels  that  escape 
our  view,  find  a  useful  and  timely  application  to  the  pressing 
problems  of  existence. 

10.  Philosophy,  which  may  be  called  the  science  of 
sciences,  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  the  most  "im- 
practical" pursuit  to  which  the  energies  of  man  can  be 
given ;  for,  while  a  science  may  bring  forth  some  detailed 
judgments  that  find  immediate  practical  application,  phi- 
losophy is  entirely  concerned  with  making  the  various 
sciences  consistent  with  one  another  and  in  tracing  out 
the  fundamental  postulates  upon  which  all  knowledge 
rests.  Its  goal  is  the  coherent  organization  of  all  knowl- 
edge. Yet  the  fact  that  improvement  in  organization 
yields  practical  results  in  the  various  special  sciences 
justifies   our   faith    that   a   still   wider   improvement   of 


164  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

organization  which  aims  to  bring  all  the  facts  and  prin- 
ciples of  all  sciences  into  a  coherent  system  will  work 
an  influence  on  practical  life  commensurate  with  its  com- 
prehensive  character.  Thus,  though  philosophy  "bakes 
no  cakes,"  as  the  ancient  proverb  reminds  us,  its  influ- 
ence may  still  operate  to  render  even  the  baking  of  cakes 
more  efficient. 

The  work  of  Herbert  Spencer,  dealing  though  it  did  with 
abstract  and  theoretical  themes,  revealed  the  principle  of  evo- 
lution as  the  one  permanent  essence  in  all  our  experiences  with 
nature,  with  mind,  and  with  society.  The  recognition  of  this 
principle  has  had  the  most  profound  effect  upon  the  practical 
affairs  of  life.  There  is  scarcely  a  field  of  human  labor  that  it 
has  not  modified.  Agriculture  has  been  revolutionized,  medi- 
cine has  been  founded  upon  a  new  and  firmer  foundation,  and 
even  government  and  practical  politics  have  felt  its  influence. 

II.  The  fact  that  the  organization  of  experience  in 
coherent  systems  is  a  fundamental  factor  in  promoting 
the  application  of  experience  to  the  practical  improve- 
ment of  adjustment  is  profoundly  significant  to  the  pro- 
cess of  education.^  A  large  number  of  the  judgments 
that  education  impresses  will  serve,  not  so  much  in 
direct  application  to  the  needs  of  life  as  in  cementing 
together  the  various  parts  of  a  coherent  body  of  knowl- 
edge. But  the  educator  must  never  lose  sight  of  the 
fact  that  his  work  is  ultimately  to  be  measured  and 
judged  by  practical  standards;  ultimately  all  knowl- 
edge must  have  practical  worth.     Simply  because  a  mul- 

1  Cf.  L.  F.  Ward:  Dynamic  Sociology »  New  York,  1897,  voL  ii,  p.  542. 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  EXPERIENCES      l6$ 

titude  of  stages  may  intervene  between  the  assimilation 
of  experience  and  its  outcome  in  action,  one  must  not  be 
deceived  into  believing  that  mind  exists  for  any  purpose 
other  than  the  modification  and  direction  of  adjustments. 
Nature  does  not  provide  luxuries  that  subserve  no  pur- 
pose; and  a  mind  that  assimilated  knowledge  for  its 
own  sake  would  certainly  be  such  a  luxury. 

But  while  education  must  recognize  this  standard,  it 
will  still  be  untroubled  by  the  popular  clamor  for  the 
"practical."  It  will  understand  that  practical  ends  are 
sometimes  best  subserved  by  seemingly  impractical 
means,  and  that,  in  ways  far  beyond  the  ken  of  "com- 
mon sense,''  the  judgments  which  that  common  sense 
derides  as  purely  theoretical  may  converge  upon  and 
improve  even  so  prosaic  a  task  as  digging  a  ditch;  for 
just  as  no  fact  is  so  small  that  theoretical  science  may 
neglect  it,  so  no  human  duty  is  so  mean  or  lowly  that 
this  same  theoretical  science  may  not  enlighten  and 
ennoble  it. 

It  is  not  to  be  inferred,  however,  that  the  individual  who 
assimilates  knowledge  is  necessarily  conscious  of  the  ultimate 
function  which  this  knowledge  is  to  fulfill  in  his  life.  One  must 
distinguish  carefully  between  the  ultimate  value  that  education 
may  see  in  subject-matter  of  instruction  and  the  interest  that 
the  individual  may  have  in  this  subject-matter.  The  investi- 
gator may  work  solely  and  simply  from  an  abstract  love  of 
truth,  taking  no  thought  whatsoever  of  even  the  indirect  bear- 
ing of  his  conclusions  upon  practical  life.  Further  than  this, 
the  love  of  truth  may  be  only  an  empty  phrase  to  him,  and  the 


l66  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

real  motive  that  keeps  him  to  his  work  may  be  a  mere  delight 
in  that  particular  form  of  activity  called  investigation,  —  an 
acquired  interest,  growing  directly  out  of  the  primitive  instinct 
of  curiosity.  Viewed  from  the  subjective  standpoint,  the  satis- 
faction of  this  interest  is  a  commendable  end  in  itself,  —  but, 
from  the  social  standpoint,  it  is  commendable  only  because 
experience  has  proved  that  society  is,  in  the  long  run,  the 
gainer  if  men  are  permitted  to  investigate  for  the  sake  of  inves- 
tigation. In  other  words,  investigation  is  an  individual  interest 
that  society  confirms  as  ultimately  promoting  social  welfare. 

1 2c  In  the  discussion  hitherto,  the  terms  fact,  law, 
principle,  generalization,  have  frequently  recurred.  It 
IS  well  to  have  a  definite  connotation  for  each  of  these 
terms.  A  fact,  for  our  purposes,  is  a  judgment  of  the 
particular  type,  representing,  one  may  say,  the  solution 
of  an  aggregate  idea  made  up  largely  of  concrete  sense- 
material.  In  the  illustration  cited  above,  the  judg- 
ments, "These  seeds  germinate  in  damp  sand,"  "These 
seeds  do  not  germinate  in  dry  sand,"  are  facts.  The 
terms  "generalization,"  "law,"  and  "^^ principle "  may 
be  looked  upon  as  synonymous.  Each  represents  the 
statement  of  a  relation  that  is  constant  in  a  number  of 
separate  facts.  Thus  the  judgment,  "All  seeds  require 
heat  and  moisture  for  germination,"  is  a  generalization, 
a  law,  or  a  principle.  In  view  of  its  universal  validity, 
it  is  also  known  in  logic  as  a  universal  judgment.  A 
judgment  that  is  drawn  from  a  comparatively  few  facts 
and  inferred  to  cover  a  much  larger  number  is  termed 
a  hypothetical  judgment,  or  a  hypothesis,, 


THE   ORGANIZATION   OF   EXPERIENCES  167 

The  organization  of  judgments  into  systems  of  knowl- 
edge also  gives  rise  to  some  technical  terms  that  should 
be  used  in  a  definite  manner.  An  investigator  working 
in  a  special  field  of  knowledge  generally  confines  his 
constructive  efforts  to  a  very  small  corner  of  that  field. 
He  attempts  first  to  discover  facts  and  then  to  work 
these  facts  up  into  principles  or  generalizations  of  a 
comparatively  simple  nature.  The  written  or  printed 
record  of  such  investigations,  together  with  the  conclu- 
sions that  he  draws  from  them,  is  termed  a  monograph, 
and  the  investigator  himself  is  a  specialist.  A  second 
corps  of  workers  might  analogously  be  called  generalists. 
They  work  over  the  facts  and  principles  brought  out  by 
the  specialists  and  attempt  to  put  these  together  in  a 
coherent  system.^  The  record  of  their  work  is  termed  a 
treatise.  Finally,  there  is  a  third  class  of  workers  who 
deal  with  the  relations  of  the  several  sciences  to  one 
another  and  to  life  in  general.  These  are  the  philoso- 
phers, and  their  writings  as  works  of  philosophy  fall  into 
several  subclasses.  In  addition  to  all  these,  there  are 
men  who  sum  up  in  brief  form  the  main  facts  and  prin- 
ciples in  the  larger  fields  and  produce  text-books.  A 
text-book  may  take  the  form  of  a  treatise,  but,  as  a  rule, 
it  is  a  compilation  from  a  number  of  treatises  and  aims 
at  brevity  and  simplicity  of  treatment. 

The  principle  of  compensation  would  suggest  that  a  high 
degree  of  efficiency  in  more  than  one  of  these  lines  would  be 
*  Hence  the  term  systematist\%  often  used  as  a  synonym  o{ getter alist. 


l68  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

exceptional.  This  inference  is  strongly  confirmed  by  experi- 
ence. There  seems  to  be  a  distinctive  type  of  mind  that  is 
either  adapted  to  or  developed  by  specialized  research,  and 
unusual  ability  along  this  line  seems  quite  to  preclude  even 
mediocre  attainments  in  philosophy  and  system.  Occasionally 
we  find  a  man,  like  Darwin  or  Wundt,  who  is  an  exception  to 
this  rule ;  but,  in  general,  the  scientists  are  poor  philosophers, 
and  the  philosophers  are  rather  less  than  indifferent  scientists. 


CHAPTER  XI 
The  Factors  of  Efficient  Recall 

1.  The  functioning  of  experience  in  consciousness 
is  characteristic  of  all  forms  of  judgment,  and  whatever 
is  to  function  effectively  in  consciousness  must  be  capable 
of  revival  or  recall.  This  imphes  that  the  factors  which 
condition  the  revival  of  experience  will  be  of  extreme 
importance  from  the  educational  point  of  view. 

2.  (a)  The  Recall  of  Concrete  Experience.  Psycho- 
logical investigation  ^  has  shown  that  abihty  to  revive 
concrete  sense  impressions  involves  one  or  more  of  four 
separate  factors:  (i)  recency,  (2)  primacy,  (3)  vivid- 
ness, and  (4)  frequency. 

(i)  The  more  recently  an  impression  has  been  made, 
the  more  likely  it  is  (other  things  equal)  to  be  brought 
up  again  in  consciousness.  This  is,  of  course,  a  matter 
of  commonplace  knowledge  and  needs  no  demonstra- 
tion. From  an  educational  standpoint,  however,  recency 
is  not  an  important  factor  in  recall,  for  the  obvious  reason 
that  education  works  toward  a  comparatively  remote  end. 
In  a  negative  way,  it  is  important  to  know  that  mere 
"cramming"  may  produce   the  most  deceptive   results, 

1  See  particularly  Mary  W.  Calkins:  "Association,"  in  Psychological 
Review  Monograph  Supplements,  1896,  vol.  i,  no.  2. 

169 


I/O  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

and  that  measures  must  be  taken  to  check  the  opera- 
tion of  this  factor  to  the  subversion  of  the  true  purpose 
of  education. 

(2)  Primacy,  as  a  factor  of  efficient  recall,  finds  expres- 
sion in  the  popular  phrase,  "First  impressions  are  last- 
ing." It  is  the  new  thing  that  "catches  the  attention." 
We  remember  in  great  detail  the  events  of  our  first  com- 
ing to  a  certain  town  or  to  a  certain  school.  The  re- 
maining events  of  our  stay  may  be  vague  and  shadowy 
enough,  but  the  initial  impressions  stand  out  clear  and 
distinct.  As  with  the  factor  of  recency,  education  is 
concerned  with  primacy  in  only  a  shght  degree.  First 
impressions  color  later  experiences,  hence  it  is  always 
well  to  make  one's  introduction  to  a  subject  of  study 
or  a  line  of  work  as  pleasant  and  agreeable  as  possible. 
Not  a  few  individuals  have  probably  been  effectually 
discouraged  from  that  persistent  effort  which  is  every- 
where essential  to  success  by  some  unpleasant  occur- 
rence at  the  outset  which  tinges  all  future  endeavor. 

(3)  The  value  of  vividness  in  promoting  recall  is  like- 
wise a  matter  of  commonplace  knowledge.  We  remem- 
ber experiences  that  have,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
made  a  "deep"  impression  upon  our  minds.  A  serious 
accident  or  an  exciting  episode  is  likely  to  be  retained 
indefinitely,  even  to  its  concrete  details.  Needless  to 
say,  however,  impressions  are  vivid  because  of  their 
contrast  to  other  impressions  that  lack  this  character- 
istic ;  hence  not  aU  impressions  can  be  given  this  advan- 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL      I/l 

tage.  Furthermore,  vivid  impressions  mean  an  abnormal 
nervous  activity,  hence  a  multiplicity  of  such  experiences 
would  doubtless  promote  a  nervous  breakdown.  This 
is  seen  very  plainly  among  those  who  live  for  some  time 
under  conditions  of  great  excitement. 

Notwithstanding  this  disadvantage,  however,  the  factor 
of  vividness  is  extremely  important  in  education.  If  the 
child  is  to  be  corrected  for  a  serious  fault,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  make  the  experience  of  correction  as  vivid  as 
possible  in  order  absolutely  to  insure  an  inhibitory  effect 
in  the  future.  Vividness  is  also  important  in  the  early 
stages  of  education,  when  the  child  is  still  under  the  sway 
of  passive  attention  and  must  be  appealed  to  through 
stimuli  that  soHcit  passive  attention.  With  advancing 
age,  the  individual  becomes  less  and  less  dependent 
upon  these  primitive  means  of  holding  the  attention. 
To  make  an  extensive  use  of  "spectacular  methods" 
at  this  time  is  to  appeal  to  the  lower  apperceptive  sys- 
tems, to  the  primitive  interests;  and  persistent  use  of 
such    methods    cannot    fail    to    weaken    the   individual. 

(4)  Frequency,  as  a  factor  of  efficient  recall,  is  a  syno- 
nym for  repetition.  As  we  have  seen,  it  lies  at  the  basis 
of  the  pedagogy  of  habit,  but  it  is  not  without  impor- 
tance in  the  pedagogy  of  judgment,  and  especially  in 
that  form  of  judgment  that  lies  between  habit  and 
reasoning  and  which  we  have  termed  "intuitive."  The 
factor  of  frequency  will  be  discussed  in  greater  detail 
later  on. 


172     >       THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

3.  These  four  factors  of  efficient  recall  have  impor. 
tant  relations  to  attention.  Attention  increases  the 
vividness  of  an  impression.  Vividness  and  frequency, 
in  so  far  as  their  effects  are  concerned,  may  be  said  to 
bear  an  inverse  relation  to  one  another.  Other  things 
equal,  the  less  vivid  the  impression,  the  greater  the  num- 
ber of  repetitions  essential  to  insure  its  efficient  recall. 
The  relation  is  analogous  to  driving  a  nail  by  a  single 
sledge-hammer  blow  or  by  a  number  of  light  taps.  This 
is  why  we  laid  so  much  stress  upon  repetition  in  atten- 
tion as  the  essential  principle  of  habit-forming.  The 
more  strenuous  the  attention,  the  more  quickly  will 
repetition  reach  the  goal  of  automatism  and  vice  versa} 

The  relation  of  attention  to  primacy  is  equally  clear. 
Attention  abhors  monotony  as  nature  abhors  a  vacuum. 
It  is  the  new,  the  changing,  the  varying  that  solicit  atten- 
tion; consequently,  through  the  virtue  of  attention, 
the  new  impression  becomes  the  vivid  impression.  Re- 
cency, on  the  other  hand,  bears  an  inverse  relation  to 
attention.  The  recent  experience  is  recalled  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  the  attention  that  it  aroused  was  only 
of  slight  degree.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  recency 
has  the  least  significance  to  education;  it  does  not  pro- 
mote the  efficient  recall  of  experience  except  by  accident. 

4.  (b)  The  Recall  of  Condensed  Experiences.  Al- 
though the  four  factors  just  discussed  find  their  chief 

1  Cf.  E.  S.  Swift :  "  Acquisition  of  Skill  in  Type-writing,"  in  Psychological 
BtUhtin^  1904,  ToL  i,  pp.  295  ff. 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL       1 73 

Sphere  of  activity  in  the  practical  judgment,  they  are  not 
without  importance  in  connection  with  the  conceptual 
judgment.  The  condensed  experiences  which  the  latter 
form  of  judgment  involves  must  be  represented  by  sym- 
bols, but  these  symbols  are,  intrinsically,  concrete  sense- 
materials.  The  word  "horse"  is  just  as  much  a  matter 
of  concrete  auditory  kineesthetic  or  visual  kinaesthetic 
imagery  as  the  image  of  a  particular  horse  is  a  matter 
of  visual  imagery.  The  principle  "Dry  bandages  dress 
this  t)rpe  of  bums"  is  embodied  in  words  which  form 
concrete  sense-material  just  as  surely  as  the  servant's 
revived  idea  of  his  master  dressing  a  bum  with  dry  band- 
ages. Therefore  the  factors  that  condition  the  recall 
of  concrete  sense-material  will  serve,  under  the  proper 
conditions,  to  effect  the  recall  of  condensed  experiences. 

Repetition  is  doubtless  the  factor  that  operates  most 
frequently  in  this  connection,  and  repetition  is  prob- 
ably more  important  in  the  recall  of  judgments  that  are 
borrowed  from  other  sources  than  in  the  recall  of  judg- 
ments that  one  reasons  out  for  one's  self. 

5.  But  even  under  the  most  favorable  conditions, 
any  or  all  of  the  four  factors  above  mentioned  are  inade- 
quate to  a  maximally  efficient  recall  of  condensed  expe- 
riences. Indeed,  the  very  virtue  of  condensation  lies 
in  the  fact  that  it  promotes  the  operation  of  a  factor 
of  recall  that  far  transcends  all  others.  This  factor 
is  organization,  which  is,  in  essence,  the  grasping  to- 
gether of  judgments  by  means  of   their  "thought   con- 


174 


THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 


nections."  Combinations  of  sentences  that  have  no 
relation  to  one  another  can,  it  is  true,  be  fixed  in  mind 
by  verbal  repetition,  but  the  task  is  dishearteningly 
tedious  and  the  results  inconsequential.  But  once  let 
the  sentences  bear  a  definite  relation  to  one  another, 
once  let  them  be  bound  together  by  a  thread  of  unity, 
and  they  may  be  lodged  in  the  memory  and  become 
amenable  to  efficient  recall  with  very  little  effort. 

This  is  most  clearly  brought  out  by  the  psychological  ex- 
periments upon  memory  that  have  followed  in  the  wake  of 
Ebbinghaus's  ^  classic  investigations.  Ebbinghaus  constructed  a 
number  of  "  nonsense  "  syllables  made  up  of  two  consonants  and 
a  vowel  so  combined  that  they  would  not  form  a  significant  word, 
—  for  example,  bok,  jak,  neb,  lup,  etc.  Among  other  experi- 
ments, he  compared  the  time  required  for  "committing"  a 
series  of  twelve  of  these  nonsense  syllables  with  the  time  re- 
quired for  learning  a  stanza  of  Byron's  "  Don  Juan."  The  fol- 
lowing table  is  typical  of  the  results  obtained  in  this  test ;  the 
Roman  numerals  indicate  the  successive  days  of  the  tests,  the 
Arabic  numerals  the  number  of  repetitions  necessary  to  make 
mastery  perfect. 


I 

II 

III 

IV 

V 

VI 

Nonsense  syllables  .  . 
Significant  stanza    .  . 

16.5 
7-75 

II.O 

3.75 

7-5 
1-75 

5-0 

30 
0.0 

2-5 

0.0 

Even  more  convincing  testimony  is  offered  by  the  experi- 
ments of  Miss  Lottie  Steffens.^    She  compared  two  methods 

^  H.  Ebbinghaus:    Ueber  das  Ged'dchtniss,  1885. 

^  Lottie  Steffens :  "  Zur  Lehre  vom  okonomischen  Lemen,"  in  ZtU- 
$chriftfur  Psychologic,  etc.,  1900,  vol.  xxii,  pp.  321  ff. 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL       17$ 

of  learning  one  stanza  of"  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage  "  :  (i)  the 
"piecemeal"  method,  —  repeating  a  single  line  over  and  over 
until  it  is  mastered,  then  proceeding  to"  the  second  line,  and 
so  on ;  and  (2)  the  "  complete  "  method,  —  reading  the  stanza 
through  as  a  whole,  then  repeating  the  operation  until  the 
whole  is  mastered.  She  found  that  the  complete  method  is  by 
far  the  more  economical.  This  conclusion  has  been  verified  by 
a  number  of  other  investigators,  among  them  Lobsien,^  Pent- 
schew,^  Des  Bancels,^  and  Ephrussi.* 

The  "  piecemeal "  method,  it  will  be  noted,  is  really  a  learn- 
ing of  comparatively  disconnected  sentences,  while  the  "  com- 
plete "  method  involves  the  operation  of  "  thought  unities." 
The  same  principle  explains  the  differences  found  by  Ebbing- 
haus  in  the  mastery  of  nonsense  syllables  and  significant  words. 
Hobhouse^  utilizes  both  these  experimental  sources  to  demon- 
strate the  efficacy  of  the  factor  of  organization  as  contrasted 
with  vividness  and  repetition  in  the  recall  of  experiences  that 
function  in  the  conceptual  judgment.* 

6.  Organization  in  Education.  How  the  factor  of 
organization  operates  in  education  may  be  clearly  seen 
by  comparing  the  old  memoriter  methods  of  teaching 
geography    and    history    with    the    modem    "rational" 

1  Marx  Lobsien :  "  Memorieren,"  in  Zeitschrift  fur  fadagogische  Psy- 
chologie,  etc.,  1902,  vol.  iv,  pp.  293-306. 

2  C.  Pentschew :  "  Untersuchungen  zur  Oekonomie  und  Technik  des 
Lernens,"  in  Archiv  fur  die  gesamte  Psychologie,  1903,  vol.  i,  pp.  417-526. 

8  J.  L.  Des  Bancels :  "  Sur  les  Methodes  de  Memorisation,"  in  Annie 
Psychologique,  1902,  vol.  viii,  pp.  185-204. 

*  P.  Ephrussi :  "  Experimentelle  Beitrage  zur  Lehre  vom  Gedachtnis," 
in  Zeitschrift  fur  Psychologie,  1905,  vol.  iv,  pp.  56-103. 

^  Hobhouse,  op.  cit.,  pp.  120  ff. 

6  For  further  practical  applications  of  the  "memory"  experiments, 
see  O.  Lipmann,  in  Journal  fur  Psychologie  und  Neurologie,  1903,  voL 
ii,  pp.  108  ff. 


176  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

methods.  Instead  of  memorizing  a  number  of  dis- 
connected facts,  the  present  plan  is  to  emphasize  the 
connection  between  facts,  to  show  how  each  is  related 
to  the  others,  and  how,  through  all,  there  runs  a  certain 
thread  of  unity  which  may  frequently  be  formulated 
as  a  general  principle  or  law. 

In  treating  Washington's  retreat  across  New  Jersey,  for  ex- 
ample, the  teacher  of  history  will  first  lead  his  pupils  to  see 
why  the  retreat  was  necessary,  then  why  it  was  made  in  this 
particular  direction,  and  so  on.  It  is  a  fact  that  Columbus  dis- 
covered America  in  1492.  It  is  also  a  fact  that  the  Turks 
captured  Constantinople  in  1453.  There  is  a  distinct  causal 
relation  between  these  two  facts,  and  the  tracing  of  this  relation 
forms  a  "  thought  connection  "  which  will  serve  to  fix  the  two 
facts  in  memory  far  more  effectively  than  an  indefinite  amount 
of  rote  learning.  It  is  well  to  know  that  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise was  made  in  1820;  it  is  better  to  know  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  Missouri  Compromise  in  the  long  series  of 
incidents  that  constituted  the  antislavery  agitation. 

Similarly,  in  geography,  it  is  no  longer  thought  to  be  sufficient 
for  the  child  to  memorize  a  number  of  disconnected  facts  about 
a  country,  —  that  New  York  is  the  largest  city  in  the  United 
States,  that  Cleveland  is  an  important  center  of  the  iron  and 
steel  industries,  that  flour  is  manufactured  in  Minneapolis. 
These  isolated  facts  are  grouped  under  large  principles,  —  prin- 
ciples that  serve  to  give  the  facts  a  human  significance  and  to 
bind  them  together  in  connected  systems.  In  other  words,  the 
keynote  of  modern  methods  in  history  and  geography  is  to 
"trace  out"  causal  connections,  to  discover  the  underlying 
principles  that  unite  disparate  judgments.  Just  as  the  single, 
particular  judgment  is  a  condensation  from  a  number  of  con- 
crete experiences,  so  the  general  principle  is  a  condensation 
from  a  number  of  particular  judgments.     Experience  functions 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL       1 77 

the  more  effectively  in  modifying  adjustment  the  more  thor- 
oughly it  is  condensed  and  organized  into  principles.  To 
paraphrase  a  famous  dictum  of  the  philosopher  Kant,  one  may 
well  say  that  fact  without  law  is  blind,  and  that  observation 
without  induction  is  stupidity  gone  to  seed. 

7.  But  is  education  to  depend  entirely  upon  the  factor 
of  organization  to  insure  the  efficient  recall  of  experiences  ? 
Here  one  is  reminded  again  of  the  extremes  to  which 
educational  theory  tends.  At  one  time  the  work  of  the 
school  is  entirely  of  the  memoriter  type.  Repetition 
and  rote  learning  are  the  order  of  the  day.  Another 
generation  sees  repetition  cast  aside  and  organization 
exalted.  Reasoning  becomes  the  watchword,  and  any- 
thing that  smacks  of  rote  learning  is  rigidly,  dogmati- 
cally abjured.  In  the  one  case,  there  is  a  barren 
formahsm  that  mechanizes  the  work  of  instruction  and 
reduces  the  progress  of  the  pupils  to  a  lock  step.  In 
the  other  case,  there  is  a  futile  attempt  to  enforce  upon 
the  immature  mind  forms  and  processes  that  are  beyond 
its  grasp.  The  various  factors  must  be  harmonized 
with  the  needs  and  capacities  of  the  child,  and  it  will 
be  the  task  of  the  next  chapter  to  indicate  the  princi- 
ples that  govern  this  adjustment  of  means  to  ends. 

8.  But  even  where  organization  becomes  the  lead- 
ing factor,  vividness  and  repetition  —  especially  repe- 
tition—  may  play  an  important,  although  subordinate, 
part.  Suppose  the  rule,  the  principle,  or  the  definition 
to  have  been  rationally  developed,  to  have  been  revealed 
in  its  proper  relation  to  other  items  of  knowledge,  to 


1/8  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

have  been  packed  full  of  meaning  and  content;  it  still 
remains  true  that  this  rule  or  principle  or  definition 
has  a  form  which  verbal  repetition  may  now  readily 
fix  and  render  stable.  In  other  words,  the  various  fac- 
tors cooperate  in  making  items  of  experience  maxi- 
mally effective  for  recall.  Jost  ^  has  proved  that  primacy 
and  vividness  cooperate  in  this  way,  and  Lipmann  ^  has 
similarly  shown  that  experiences  fixed  by  vividness 
are  given  an  increased  stability  by  repetition.  It  is  a 
matter  of  commonplace  knowledge  that  organization  is 
always  aided  by  repetition,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  memorizing  of  rules  and  definitions,  even  after 
they  have  been  "reasoned  out,"  may  still  be  profitable 
in  the  work  of  education.  Repetition  alone,  or  vivid- 
ness alone,  or  organization  alone  is  more  prodigal  of 
time  and  energy  than  a  combination  of  two  or  even 
three  of  these  factors. 

9.  There  is  one  department  of  education,  however, 
where  the  sole  use  of  the  factor  of  repetition  has  an 
unquestioned  right.  Each  of  us  has  doubtless  memo- 
rized verse  and  prose  selections  during  childhood,  half 
the  content  of  the  selections  being  entirely  unnoted  at 
the  time.  As  we  repeat  them  afterward,  —  perhaps 
years  afterward,  —  we  become  conscious  of  meanings 
that  we  seem  never  before  to  have  grasped.  When 
we  learned  these  selections,  the  mere  sensuous  pleasure 

*  Jost,  in  Zeitschrift  fur  Psychologic,  etc.,  1900,  vol.  xxiv,  p.  459. 

*  O.  Lipmann,  in  Zeitschrift  fur  Psychologic,  1904,  vol.  xxxv,  p.  23/ 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL      1 79 

that  attached  to  the  rhyme  and  rhythm,  to  the  succes- 
sion and  juxtaposition  of  sounds,  with  perhaps  a  faint 
glimpse  of  the  hidden  meaning,  was  sufficient  to  warrant 
the  effort.  "Even  half-grown  boys  and  girls,"  says 
Professor  Groos,^  "take  but  little  note  of  the  sense,  com- 
pared with  the  interest  that  they  bestow  upon  rhyme 
and  rhythm.  Is  it  not  a  frequent  experience  of  full- 
grown  men  and  women  to  be  suddenly  struck  with  the 
profound  truth  hidden  in  some  epigrammatic  form  of 
expression  whose  euphony  has  a  hundred  times  deUghted 
them?  They  have  actually  failed  up  to  that  time  to 
grasp  the  clear  logical  meaning  of  the  verse  or  passage." 

The  child  who  does  not  master  some  of  the  great  poems 
and  shorter  masterpieces  of  Hterary  prose  when  he  is  in 
the  "memory  stage"  of  development  will  realize  in  later 
life  that  he  has  missed  an  important  part  of  his  intel- 
lectual heritage.  He  will  not  understand  the  full  sig- 
nificance of  the  words  as  he  learns  them,  but  he  will 
store  away  a  veritable  mine  of  intellectual  wealth  in 
which,  when  his  higher  apperceptive  centers  have  devel- 
oped, he  may  delve  at  his  heart's  content. 

9.  The  Concentration  and  Correlation  of  Studies  as 
a  Means  0}  promoting  Organization.  That  a  thorough- 
going organization  of  knowledge  increases  its  revival 
value  leads  to  the  inference  that  studies  in  the  school 
should  be  so  thoroughly  interrelated  that  each  may  form 

1  K.  Groos:  TAe  Play  of  Man,  tr.  E.  L.  Baldwin,  New  York.  1901, 
p.  21. 


l80  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

a  unit  in  an  organic  whole.  All  educators  would  prob- 
ably agree  that  the  tasks  imposed  upon  the  pupils  should 
be  justified  by  the  ultimate  aim  of  education  and  that, 
in  this  sense,  subject-matter  of  instruction  should  be 
"concentrated"  upon  a  unitary  purpose.  But  in  pre- 
cisely what  degree  the  facts  and  principles  imparted 
should  be  expHcitly  related  to  one  another  in  the  minds 
of  the  pupils  themselves  has  been  a  matter  of  some  dis- 
pute. 

The  theory  of  concentration  proposed  by  ZiUer^  and 
indorsed  with  sHght  modifications  by  most  of  the  Her- 
bartian  writers  seeks  to  organize  all  the  subject-matter 
of  instruction  into  a  unified  system,  the  various  units 
of  which  shall  be  consciously  related  to  one  another 
in  the  minds  of  the  pupils.  To  this  end  Ziller  chose, 
as  the  central  feature  or  "core"  of  the  curriculum,  those 
subjects  which  he  supposed  contribute  most  to  the  de- 
velopment of  moral  character,  —  namely,  history  and 
literature.  The  remaining  subjects  were  to  be  taught, 
not  in  and  for  themselves,  but  simply  because  they  threw 
light  upon,  or  aided  in  the  interpretation  of,  the  central 
subjects.  Literature  finds  expression  in  language;  hence 
the  study  of  language  has  a  vital  and,  what  is  more  impor- 
tant in  Ziller's  opinion,  an  explicit  relation  to  Uterature; 
or,  in  our  own  terminology,  Uterature  reveals  the  need 
for  language  study.     History,  on  the  other  hand,  involves 

*  Tuiskon  Ziller :  Grundlegung  zur  Lehre  vom  erziehenden  Unterricht^ 
1865, 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL      l8l 

the  study  of  geography;  geography  opens  the  gateway 
to  the  natural  sciences;  while  these  in  turn  involve  the 
conceptions  of  mathematics.  Thus  the  entire  elemen- 
tary curriculum  is  built  up,  not  as  a  mere  mosaic  of  dis- 
connected parts,  but  an  organic  whole  centralized  about 
a  unitary  "core"  in  such  a  manner  that  the  relations 
of  one  part  to  another  cannot  fail  to  become  apparent 
to  the  pupil. 

The  doctrine  of  concentration  has  been  very  thoroughly 
worked  out  and  greatly  elaborated  by  Professor  Rein/  of  Jena, 
and  by  Professor  C.  A.  McMurry  ^  in  the  United  States.  The 
late  Francis  W.  Parker  ^  also  proposed  a  thoroughgoing  system 
of  organization,  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  the  Herbartians, 
but  utilizing  science  rather  than  culture-subjects  as  the  "  core." 

lo.  Of  late  the  term  "correlation"  has  largely  replaced 
"concentration"  to  indicate  the  organization  of  studies 
in  the  school.  One  may  recognize  the  principle  of  or- 
ganization in  correlating  the  various  disciplines  with  one 
another  without  attempting,  as  did  Ziller  and  Parker, 
to  make  one  subject  or  set  of  subjects  the  central  core 
to  which  everything  else  must  be  subordinated.  Sub- 
ject-matter must  be  organized,  but  not  in  so  fine  a  degree 
that  the  values  of  the  various  units  will  be  lost  to  view. 
There  are  a  great  many  facts  and  principles  of  arith- 
metic that  will  not  be  needed  in  the  study  of  the  natural 

1  Cf.  C.  De  Garmo :  Herbart  and  the  Herbartians,  New  York,  1896^ 
ch.  vi. 

*  C  A.  McMurry :   General  Method,  New  York,  1903. 

•  F.  W.  Parker :    Talks  on  Pedagogics,  New  York,  1894. 


l83  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

sciences  or  of  geography,  but  which  are  still  important 
in  life.  Similarly,  there  are  many  chapters  in  the  formal 
study  of  language  which  have  unquestioned  value  and 
yet  which  do  not  apply  to  the  study  of  literature.  Arith- 
metic must  be  taught  in  a  measure  as  a  "closed  system," 
organically  complete  within  its  own  Hmits,  and  the  same 
will  be  true  of  geography,  history,  and  the  natural  sciences. 
To  make  the  separate  parts  of  a  single  science  coherent 
and  unified  will  add  to  the  revival  value  of  these  parts. 
To  show  the  relation  between  certain  facts  of  history 
and  certain  facts  of  geography  will  contribute  to  the 
revival  value  of  each ;  but  to  teach  history  as  history  and 
geography  as  geography  certainly  does  not  preclude 
such  a  correlation,  while  to  teach  geography  simply 
as  an  adjunct  to  history  would  preclude  whatever  value 
might  accrue  from  the  independent  organization  of  the 
former.  In  short,  the  doctrine  of  correlation,  while 
it  recognizes  the  wisdom  of  relating  different  subjects 
of  instruction  to  one  another,  also  recognizes  the  virtue 
of  a  coherent  organization  within  the  limits  of  each 
subject. 

Certainly  at  some  time  of  the  pupil's  life  he  should 
make  an  effort  to  grasp  the  entire  body  of  knowledge 
in  a  schematic  outline,  where  the  relations  between  dif- 
ferent parts  will  be  thoroughly  explicit;  but  the  time 
when  this  can  be  done  profitably  comes  only  with  rea- 
sonable maturity,  —  perhaps  in  later  adolescence.  This 
large,  comprehensive  attitude  toward  knowledge  is  the 


THE  FACTORS  OF  EFFICIENT  RECALL       1 8} 

specific  province  of  philosophy.  Prior  to  the  prosecu 
tion  of  this  study,  organization  is  certainly  not  to  be 
neglected,  but  it  is  to  be  confined  within  certain  limits 
which  can  be  determined  only  by  practical  experience 
in  the  class  room.  The  standard  by  which  these  limi- 
tations are  to  be  judged,  however,  is  this :  Does  organi- 
zation, up  to  this  point,  contribute  essentially  to  the 
efficient  recall  of  the  units  organized? 


CHAPTER  Xn 

The  functioning  of  the  Factors  of  Recall  in 
Education  as  modified  by  the  Periods  of 
Child   Development 

I.  The  charge  of  "loose"  schoolcraft  and  a  demand 
for  a  return  to  the  older  and  harsher  educative  methods 
frequently  recur  in  contemporary  educational  literature.^ 
Under  the  present  regime,  it  is  asserted,  drill  and  disci 
pline  have  become  obsolete  terms,  effort  is  at  a  discount, 
and  the  net  result  is  a  loss  of  stamina  and  a  weakening 
of  the  moral  fiber.  But  when  these  charges  are  made, 
the  "new"  education  seldom  lacks  a  champion  to  defend 
it.2  The  harsher  methods,  it  is  maintained,  have  been 
justly  eUminated.  The  well-drilled,  finely  discipHned 
individual  is  at  best  a  machine,  and  modern  hfe  requires 
delicate  judgments,  adequate  to  ever  differing  situations, 
rather  than  the  machine  reaction  adapted  only  to  typi- 
cal situations. 

Both  parties  to  this  controversy  appear  to  have  neg- 
lected some  very  important  data  that  have  been  accumu- 

'  Cf.,  for  example,  Barrett  Wendell,  in  North  American  Review,  Sep- 
tember, 1904,  vol.  clxxix,  pp.  388-401. 

2  Cf.  an  editorial  in  the  Amotion,  October  20,  1904,  vol.  Ixxix,  pp.  311- 
312;  also  F.  A.  Fitzpatrick:  "Reflections  of  an  Iconoclast,"  in  Educa- 
tional  Review,  1905,  vol.  xxix,  pp.  151-162. 

184 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  I85 

lated  during  the  past  ten  years  by  the  now  unpopular 
and  much-abused  cult  of  ''Child  Study,"  and  this  neglect 
is  the  more  unfortunate  because  the  light  that  child 
study  throws  upon  the  main  question  at  issue  renders 
these  heated  and  speculative  discussions  quite  superflu- 
ous. Effort  and  interest,  habit  and  judgment,  repetition 
and  organization,  all  have  a  legitimate  and  indispensable 
place  in  the  educative  process.  If  certain  methods  have 
been  emphasized  at  the  expense  of  others,  it  is  simply 
because,  with  his  human  propensity  to  hasty  generaliza- 
tion, the  enthusiastic  educator  has  assumed  that  a  factor 
which  he  finds  to  be  efficient  at  one  period  of  develop- 
ment is  equally  efficient  at  all  periods  of  development. 
As  far  as  the  educative  process  is  concerned,  however, 
the  child  is  an  entirely  different  being  at  different  levels 
of  his  growth.  Each  period  of  development  is  marked 
by  peculiar  physical,  mental,  and  moral  characteristics 
that  demand  specific  treatment.  In  short,  "method" 
cannot  be  generalized:  what  is  food  and  drink  at  one 
time  may  become  the  veriest  poison  at  a  later  stage,  and 
what  is  thoroughly  sufficient  and  adequate  at  this  later 
stage  may  work  the  most  disastrous  results  if  applied  to 
the  earlier  period. 

2.  Throughout  the  United  States,  the  eight  grades  that 
commonly  comprise  the  elementary  school  are  divided  into 
three  fairly  distinct  groups.  Grades  I  and  II  form  the 
"primary"  division,  grades  III,  IV,  V,  and  VI  the  "inter- 
mediate" division,  and  grades  VII  and  VIII  the  "gram- 


1 86  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

mar"  division.  While  this  grouping  was  doubtless  quite 
unconscious  at  the  outset,  child  study  has  shown  that  it 
corresponds  very  closely  to  the  natural  lines  of  cleavage 
separating  distinct  stages  of  mental  and  physical  growth, 
and  that  the  threefold  division  of  the  elementary  school 
is  really  based  upon  fundamental  differences  in  the 
capacities  and   needs  of  children   at  different  ages. 

Neither  mental  nor  physical  development  follows  the 
law  of  uniformly  accelerated  motion.  On  the  contrary, 
both  are  rhythmical,  periods  of  growth  being  followed 
by  longer  or  shorter  periods  of  comparative  quiescence, 
and  these  in  turn  by  shorter  or  longer  periods  of  growth. 
So  different  are  the  characteristics  of  both  mind  and 
body  at  successive  crests  of  these  developmental  waves 
that  some  writers  have  termed  the  great  changes  in  the 
child's  Hfe  "metamorphoses,"  indicating  an  analogy  with 
the  changes  exhibited  in  the  development  of  many  lower 
forms  of  life  and  most  spectacularly,  perhaps,  in  the 
development  of  the  typical  insect  through  larval  and 
pupal  stages  to  complete  maturity.  In  so  far  as  the  work 
of  the  school  is  concerned,  this  analogy  is  hardly  over- 
drawn. The  school  Hfe  of  the  child  presents  three  dis- 
tinct phases:  (i)  the  transition  stage,  from  the  age  of 
six  to  the  age  of  eight;  (2)  the  formative  stage,  from 
eight  to  twelve;  and  (3)  the  adolescent  stage,  from  twelve 
to  eighteen.  The  stages  are  closely  consistent  with  the 
primary,  intermediate,  and  grammar-high  school  princi- 
ple of  grading.    It  is  true  that  the  dividing  lines  separat- 


PERIODS   OF   DEVELOPMENT  l8j 

ing  each  stage  from  its  predecessor  and  successor  cannot 
be  accurately  drawn,  but  it  is  also  true  that  there  is,  for 
each  individual  child,  a  change  much  more  abrupt  than 
the  educator  usually  recognizes  in  his  practice.^ 

3.  (a)  The  Transition  Stage.  The  years  six  to  seven 
and  seven  to  eight  form  a  period  of  child  development 
somewhat  analogous  to  the  later  adolescent  period,  but 
possessing  many  individual  features  not  yet  well  under- 
stood. Its  physical  characteristics  are  (i)  relatively 
rapid  growth,^  (2)  an  incoordination  of  the  smaller  mus- 
cles and  the  finer  nerve  connections,^  and  (3)  a  relatively 
high  susceptibility  to  disease  and  fatigue.*  The  rapid 
physical  growth  indicates  that  a  large  part  of  the  poten- 
tial energy  normally  available  for  other  purposes  is  now 
utiUzed  in  the  building  up  of  new  tissues.  The  coordi- 
nation of  the  nerve  connections  and  the  smaller  muscles 
points  to  a  critical  period  of  nervous  disintegration. 
The  susceptibility  to  disease  and  fatigue  confirms  this 

1  Cf.  W.  C  Ruediger :  "  Has  the  Dividing  Line  between  Elementaiy 
and  Secondary  Education  been  drawn  at  the  Proper  Point?"  in  Element- 
ary School-teacher,  1905,  vol,  v,  pp.  482-492. 

*  This  is  clearly  seen  in  the  tables  of  growth  compiled  by  various  au- 
thorities. Cf.,  for  example,  Roberts's  table  as  cited  by  H.  H.  Donaldson: 
Growth  of  the  Brain,  London,  1897,  p.  51;  and  Burk's  table,  compiled 
from  over  sixty-eight  thousand  cases  investigated  by  Porter,  Peckham, 
and  others  (F.  Burk :  "  Growth  of  Children  in  Height  and  Weight,"  in 
American  Journal  of  Psychology,  1898,  vol.  ix,  pp.  ?53-326). 

*  Hall :  "  Ideal  School,"  in  Addresses  and  Proceedings,  National  Edu- 
cational Association,  1901,  p.  478. 

*  Hall :  The  Ideal  School,  p.  477;  Adolescence,  New  York,  1904,  vol.  '\ 
p.  251. 


1 88  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

inference  and  adds  to  the  significance  of  this  period  asi 
one  of  a  comparative  paucity  of  excess  energy. 

4.  The  leading  mental  characteristics  of  the  transition 
stage  are  suggested  by  its  name.  Prior  to  the  age  of 
six,  passive  attention  holds  almost  undisputed  sway. 
Whatever  the  child  does  is  done  for  immediate  ends — 
to  satisfy  immediate  desires.  His  activity  is  charac- 
terized by  an  interest  in  the  process  rather  than  in  the 
product.  Whatever  he  is  doing  absorbs  his  attention 
for  the  time  being;  the  end  that  is  to  be  gained  does 
not  trouble  him.  The  transition  period  is  really  a  "pass- 
ing over"  of  interest  from  means  to  end,  from  process 
to  product,  —  an  initial  development  from  passive  to 
active  attention. 

But  it  must  be  understood  that  this  transition  is  only 
initial  even  under  the  most  fortunate  conditions;  "and 
the  fact  that  passive  attention  is  still  the  order  of  the  day 
is  the  key  to  a  very  important  chapter  in  the  pedagogy 
of  this  period.  Although  the  child  possesses  the  power 
of  speech,  he  is  not  at  this  time,  strictly  speaking,  a 
"rational  animal."  His  thinking  is  still  predominantly  of 
the  concrete  order,  and  his  judgments,  in  the  main,  are 
of  the  "practical"  type.  It  is  still  far  too  early  for  con- 
ceptual thought  and  logical  reasoning,  since  the  condensa- 
tion of  experience  has  not  yet  progressed  to  that  point 
where  symbols  may  effectively  rid  themselves  of  their 
attendant  imagery.    The  word  does  not  function  as  a 

1  Cf.  ch.  vi,  above. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  189 

focal  representative  of  a  concept,  for  the  concept  itself 
is  still  in  a  nascent  stage;  consequently,  the  word  is 
associated  definitely  with  a  concrete  thing  or  a  concrete 
image.  It  is  because  the  condensation  of  experience  to 
the  conceptual  point  is  highly  dependent  upon  active 
attention  ^  that  the  child  in  the  transition  period  is  so 
largely  unamenable  to  those  educative  influences  that 
depend  upon  "reasoning"  and  organization. 

5.  The  moral  characteristics  of  this  stage  are  likewise 
to  be  explained  by  the  incapacity  for  active  attention. 
If  we  think  of  morality  as  the  subordination  of  momen- 
tary impulse  to  a  remote  end,  we  must  consider  the  child 
at  this  time  of  his  life  as  neither  moral  nor  immoral  but 
rather  unmoral.  Since  he  is  largely  incapable  of  inhibit- 
ing unsocial  impulses  with  reference  to  an  ideal,  —  for 
he  lives  in  a  world  of  reals,  —  he  must  sometimes  be 
forced  to  this  inhibition  by  the  primitive  incentives  of 
pleasure  and  pain  —  using  these  terms  in  a  strictly  physi- 
cal sense.  Gradually,  as  the  abiUty  to  hold  in  mind 
the  more  remote  and  intangible  ideas  comes  to  be  devel- 
oped, these  primitive  methods  may  give  place  to  those 
of  higher  degree.  The  child  will  recognize  that  the 
unsocial  impulse  may  profitably  be  sacrificed  in  order 
to  gain  a  reward  or  avoid  a  punishment  which  his  widen- 
ing experience  now  reveals  to  him.  At  a  still  later  period, 
—  probably  not  until  the  onset  of  adolescence,  —  the  ab- 
stract ideals  of  honor,  duty,  and  obedience,  functioning 
^  See  ch.  ix,  above. 


190  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

in  conceptual  judgments,   may  come   to   dominate  his 
conduct. 

6.  (b)  The  Formative  Stage.  The  rapid  rate  of 
growth  that  characterizes  the  transition  period  is  sharply 
contrasted  with  the  relatively  slow  growth  of  the  forma- 
tive period.  A  certain  amount  of  energy  is  consequently 
set  free  for  other  purposes  than  the  formation  of  new 
tissues.  This  is  evidenced  by  the  ceaseless  activity  which 
is  so  marked  among  pre-adolescent  children.  Indeed,  it 
is  probably  true  that  the  child  expends  more  energy  in 
proportion  to  his  weight  during  these  years  than  at  any 
other  time  of  his  Hfe.  Unhke  the  adult,  however,  — 
with  whom  he  has  many  points  in  common,  —  the  chan- 
nels through  which  this  energy  is  distributed  are  not 
highly  organized;  hence  its  constant  overflow  as  "excess." 
At  about  the  age  of  eight,  the  brain  practically  completes 
its  development^  as  far  as  weight  and  size  are  concerned, 
and  the  changes  that  this  organ  subsequently  undergoes 
are  due  to  internal  organization,  —  the  knitting  together 
of  different  sense  areas,  the  ripening  of  the  association 
centers,  and  the  formation  of  functional  connections  be- 
tween neurones.  Expressed  in  another  way,  this  means 
that  the  years  eight  to  twelve  are  the  "habit-forming" 
period,  for  habit,  on  its  physiological  side,  is  the  making 
permanent  of  pathways  of  nervous  discharge.  President 
Hall^  says  of  this  period:    "We  are  now  educating  the 

1  H.  H.  Donaldson:  TAe  Growth  of  the  Brain,  London,  1897,  p.  104; 
Hall :  Ideal  School,  p.  477.  ^  Hall,  op.  cit.,  p.  478. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  I9I 

automatic  bases  of  both  mind  and  morals,  and  habits 
are  never  so  easily  formed  and  made  stable.  ...  It  is 
the  time  to  break  in  the  human  colt,  in  some  sense  the 
wildest  of  all  wild  animals.  If  the  piano  or  any  other 
musical  instrument  is  to  be  learned,  this  is  the  time  for 
drill,  especially  on  the  scales  and  exercises.  An  instru- 
mentalist's technique  is  rarely  good  if  the  foundations 
are  not  laid  at  this  stage."  The  same  author  also  cites 
the  well-known  fact  that  pronunciation  of  foreign  lan- 
guages is  seldom  perfect  unless  the  adjustments  are 
made  automatic  at  this  time,  and  Professor  James,^  in 
his  classic  chapter  on  habit,  emphasizes  the  necessity  of 
early  training  in  the  little  niceties  of  dress  and  etiquette, 
if  these  acquirements  are  ever  to  count  for  much  among 
one's  fellows. 

In  contrast  to  the  susceptibility  to  fatigue  and  disease 
that  marks  the  transition  period,  the  years  eight  to  tv/elve 
show  a  comparative  immunity  to  both  of  these  energy- 
exhausting  forces.  Some  authorities,^  indeed,  maintain 
that  the  child  fatigues  easily  at  this  time,  but  all  appear 
to  agree  that  he  recovers  very  rapidly  from  fatigue  and 
that  a  reasonable  amount  of  strain  and  effort  is  now 
quite  without  the  disastrous  results  which  overwork  may 
easily  produce  in  the  preceding  and  in  the  following 
period. 

*  W.  James:  Principles  of  Psychology,  New  York,  1890,  p.  122. 

*  For  example,  Siegert :  Die  Periodicitat  in  der  Entwickelung  def 
Kindernatur,  Leipzig,  1891 ;   cited  by  King,  op.  cii.,  p.  183. 


192  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

7.  The  mental  phenomena  that  characterize  the  forma 
tive  period  differ  in  degree  rather  than  in  kind  from 
those  of  the  transition  stage.  Under  the  most  favorable 
conditions,  the  years  six  to  eight  can  accompHsh  but  a 
partial  transition  from  passive  to  active  attention.  In 
fact,  the  "strong  stimulus"  will  never  cease  to  solicit 
passive  attention,  and  throughout  life  one  is  always  sub- 
ject, in  greater  or  less  degree,  to  the  temptations  of  the 
moment,  the  passion  for  change,  the  desire  to  do  "some- 
thing else."  But  in  the  formative  period,  while  passive 
attention  is  still  dominant,  the  concentration  and  effort 
that  active  attention  involves  can  be  demanded  with  less 
fear  of  disastrous  consequences.  At  the  same  time,  the 
(Child's  interests  will  center  very  largely  in  the  objective 
rather  than  the  subjective,  and  especially  in  objects  that 
are  animate  and  moving. 

According  to  Kline,^  the  "runaway  curve"  reaches 
one  of  its  high  points  between  eight  and  ten.  This 
means  that  the  dislike  for  monotony  and  for  "staying 
with"  a  task  is  especially  strong  at  this  time.  Perhaps 
it  is  largely  for  this  reason  that  the  average  pupil  finds 
the  intermediate  grades  so  irksome.  Here,  more  than 
anywhere  else,  the  teacher  has  constantly  to  battle  against 
nature.  On  every  hand,  the  stimuli  that  solicit  passive 
attention  must  be  strenuously,  often  forcibly,  resisted. 

The   concrete   imagery  that  characterizes   the   child's 

1  L.  W.  Kline :  "  Truancy  as  related  to  the  Migratory  Instinct,"  in 
Pedagogical  Seminary,  1898,  voL  v,  pp.  381-420. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  193 

mental  processes  in  the  transition  period  continues  to 
dominate  the  early  years  of  the  formative  period.  Judg- 
ment is  still  largely  limited  to  the  practical  type,  experi- 
ences being  revived  with  little  attempt  at  condensation. 
Especially  is  it  to  be  noted  that  any  tendency  toward 
symbolism  is  entirely  lacking.^  On  the  other  hand,  the 
capacity  for  retaining  concrete  sense  impressions  is  never 
so  strong  as  during  this  period ;  the  mind  seems  to  grasp 
and  hold  everything  that  reaches  the  focus  of  attention. 
Even  words  that  are  comparatively  empty  of  meaning  can 
be  readily  impressed ;  as  President  Hall  ^  says,  "  Verbal 
memory  is  at  its  very  best  and  should  be  trained  far  more 
than  it  is."  In  short,  in  no  other  stage  of  childhood  is* 
it  so  thoroughly  true  that  the  mind  is  "wax  to  receive 
and  marble  to  retain." 

In  the  early  part  of  the  formative  period,  the  capacity 
for  logical  reasoning  is  still  nascent,^  although  it  would 
seem  to  make  its  presence  felt  in  a  slight  degree  at  about 
the  age  of  nine.*  Its  subsequent  growth  is  comparatively 
slow  until  the  onset  of  adolescence.^ 

1  E.  L.  Thorndike :  Notes  on  Child  Study,  New  York,  1903,  p.  8a 

2  Hall,  op.  cit.,  p.  478. 

•Mary  Sheldon  Barnes:  **The  Historic  Sense  among  Children,"  in 
Studies  in  Education,  1896,  vol.  i,  p.  90. 

*  "  At  the  age  of  nine  and  a  half  or  ten  the  number  of  those  giving 
reasons  why  they  wish  to  follow  such  and  such  vocations  also  rapidly 
increases."  —  King,  op.  cit.,  p.  187. 

6  Professor  Thorndike,  in  denying  any  specific  "reasoning"  capacity  in 
adolescents  over  and  above  that  possessed  by  young  children,  evidently 
fails  to  discriminate  between  practical  and  conceptual  judgment.  Notes  on 
Child  Stud)ff  pp.  98-104. 


194  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

8.  Morally,  the  formative  period  is  best  described  by 
its  name.  Because  of  the  slight  capacity  for  logical 
reasoning,  the  more  recondite  moral  judgments  are  not 
to  be  reUed  upon.  The  social  ideals  which  play  so  im- 
portant a  part  in  such  judgments  are  likewise  a  product 
of  a  later  growth,  —  being,  in  a  measure,  acquired  in- 
terests based  upon  the  sexual  instincts  that  arise  with 
adolescence.  From  the  standpoint  of  moral  culture,  the 
years  eight  to  twelve  are  preeminently  the  time  for  de- 
veloping specific  moral  habits,  —  habits  of  cleanliness, 
industry,  honesty,  and  obedience,  —  with  very  little 
attempt  at  "moral  suasion,"  but  rather  a  chief  depend- 
ence upon  arbitrary  authority.  This  statement  may 
smack  of  barbarism  and  suggest  an  unwelcome  return 
to  the  severe  moral  culture  of  the  past.  But  if,  in  at- 
tempting to  civilize  the  child,  we  assume  that  he  is  civil- 
ized at  the  outset;  if,  in  attempting  to  develop  higher 
motives,  we  assume  that  these  motives  already  exist  and 
operate  effectively;  then  we  not  only  commit  a  logical 
fallacy,  but  experience  goes  to  prove  that  we  make  a  very 
serious  practical  blunder.  If  the  child  is  to  be  treated 
by  barbaric  methods,  it  is  because,  from  an  ethnic  stand- 
point, he  has  barbaric  characteristics. 

President  Hall's  ^  interpretation  of  the  transition  and  forma- 
tive  periods  is  particularly  illuminating.  He  believes  that  the 
peculiar  physical  and  mental  characteristics  of  the  years  six 
to  eight  are  the  outcroppings  in  the  individual  of  traits  that 

1  G.  S.  Hall:  Adolescence^  New  York,  1904,  Preface,  vol.  i,  pp.  i-x  ff. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  195 

marked  the  period  of  puberty  at  some  remote  stage  of  race 
history.  As  infancy  has  been  prolonged,  sexual  maturity  has 
been  retarded,  and  what  was  at  one  time  the  period  of  pubertj 
becomes  now  only  a  "  nodal "  point  of  development,  still  retain* 
ing,  however,  the  adolescent  characteristics  in  miniature.  In- 
deed there  is  much  to  confirm  this  conclusion  in  the  analogies 
between  the  transition  stage  and  the  much  later  adolescence — 
"  as  if,  amid  the  increasing  instabilities  of  health  at  the  age  of 
about  six,  we  could  still  detect  the  ripple  marks  of  an  ancient 
pubic  beach  now  lifted  high  above  the  tides  of  a  receding 
shore-line  as  human  infancy  has  been  prolonged." 

In  an  analogous  fashion.  Dr.  Hall  would  consider  the  forma- 
tive period  as  representing  a  remote  period  of  maturity,  "  when, 
in  a  warm  climate,  the  young  of  our  species  once  shifted  for 
themselves  independently  of  further  parental  aid."  The  char- 
acteristics of  this  period  were  presumably  predatory  and  pre- 
social,  and  these  we  find  cropping  out  in  the  child  from  eight 
to  twelve.  "  The  elements  of  personality  are  few,  but  are  well 
organized  and  on  a  simple,  effective  plan.  .  .  .  Thus  the  boy 
is  father  of  the  man  in  a  new  sense,  in  that  his  qualities  are 
indefinitely  older,  and  existed,  well  compacted,  untold  ages 
before  the  distinctly  human  attributes  were  developed." 

Whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  this  hypothesis,  it  still 
remains  as  the  most  illuminating  and  satisfying  explanation  of 
the  pre-adolescent  child  that  has  yet  been  offered. 

9.  (c)  The  Adolescent  Stage.  This  important  period 
has  been  so  thoroughly  and  adequately  treated  in  recent 
literature-^  that  little  need  be  said  of  its  characteristics 
in  this  place.  Physically,  it  is  marked  by  a  very  rapid 
growth,  —  the  rate  of  growth  being  sometimes  (that 
is,  in  individual  cases)  almost  doubled  within  a  single 

1  Especially  in  President  Hall's  monumental  work. 


196  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

year,  while  the  normal  percentum  increase  is  from  onf 
third  to  one  half.  The  usual  accompaniments  of  rapid 
growth,  noted  in  connection  with  the  transition  period, 
are  again  in  evidence.  There  is  a  diminution  of  excess 
energy  —  sometimes  even  a  positive  lack  of  sufficient 
energy,  resulting  in  anaemia,  lassitude,  and  Weltschmerz. 
There  is  a  recurrence  of  the  nervous  disintegration  char- 
acteristic of  the  former  period,  and  this  finds  an  ex- 
pression in  awkward  movements,  uncertain  adjustments, 
and  a  general  incoordination  sometimes  bordering  upon 
chorea.  While  the  mortality  average  is  much  lower 
than  during  the  preceding  years,  owing  to  a  diminished 
susceptibihty  to  the  diseases  pecuKar  to  childhood,  there 
is,  on  the  other  hand,  an  increased  susceptibility  to  adult 
diseases;  it  would  also  appear  that  the  germs  of  many 
diseases  that  raise  the  mortality  average  later  in  life 
are  apt  to  be  implanted  at  this  time.^  But  the  most 
important  physical  changes  are,  of  course,  involved  in 
the  development  of  the  primary  and  secondary  sex  func- 
tions. These  ultimately  furnish  the  key  to  the  explana- 
tion of  the  mental  and  moral  characteristics. 

10.  Mentally,  then,  as  well  as  physically,  adolescence 
is  a  "new  birth."  The  intellectual  changes  —  in  them- 
selves profound  —  aje  at  first  quite  overshadowed  by 
the  emotional  instabihty.  "Fear,  anger,  love,  pity, 
jealousy,  emulation,  ambition,  and  sympathy  are  either 
now  born  or  springing  into  their  most  intense  life."  ^ 

1  Hall :  Adolescence,  ch.  iv.  *  Hall :  Ideal  School,  p.  483. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  I9;? 

All  these  are  what  might  be  termed  "social"  instincts. 
They  imply  an  innate  widening  out  of  the  child's  hori- 
zon. Heretofore  he  has  been  largely  self-centered, 
in  the  narrowest  sense  of  this  narrow  term.  The  new 
instincts  have  no  less  a  selfish  reference,  but  they  also 
include  a  "consciousness  of  kind"  that  has  hitherto 
been  lacking. 

This  sudden  coming  into  function  of  a  host  of  new 
instincts  accentuates  the  dominance  of  impulse  and  thus 
in  a  measure  causes  a  reversion  to  passive  attention. 
Hall  ^  places  the  apex  of  the  runaway  curve  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  period.  All  teachers  of  adolescent  children 
would  doubtless  agree  that  the  child  entering  upon  this 
stage  reacts  very  strongly  against  the  drill  and  repeti- 
tion to  which  he  has  become  inured  during  the  pre- 
ceding period,  and  it  is  certainly  true  that  the  factor  of 
interest  will  bring  far  better  results  at  this  time  than  the 
factor  of  forced  effort. 

The  interests  that  can  be  appealed  to,  however,  are 
on  a  much  higher  plane  than  the  primitive  interests 
of  early  childhood.  The  dominant  instincts  are  innate, 
it  is  true,  but  they  operate  upon  a  superstructure  built 
up  during  the  preceding  period.  Indeed,  the  drill  and 
discipline  of  the  formative  years  may  be  looked  upon 
as  a  necessary  preparation,  —  as  a  culture  of  the  soil 
in  which  the  social  instincts  are  to  be  planted;  and  the 
pedagogy  of  adolescence  will  be  easy  or  difficult  accord- 

1  Hall :  Ideal  School,  p.  484;  Adolescence,  vol.  i,  p.  348. 


198  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

fng  as  the  work  of  the  preceding  period  has  been  done 
well  or  ill.  Adolescence  brings  with  it  a  new  outlook 
from  a  higher  vantage  point,  but  the  acquisitions  already 
made  must  form  the  field  which  this  new  outlook  faces. 
Hence  the  dominant  interests  are,  in  a  sense,  acquired 
interests.  They  are  relatively  permanent  and  abiding, 
relatively  deep  and  penetrating.  The  idle  curiosity  of 
childhood  becomes  a  deeply  seated  love  01  knowing 
for  the  sake  of  knowing;  the  blind  and  purposeless 
imitation  of  infancy  becomes  critical  of  ends,  and  from 
the  mere  copyist  is  developed  the  virtuoso;  emulation 
is  more  highly  organized,  sees  farther  into  the  future, 
and  forms  the  basis  of  ambition;  the  primitive  "puzzle" 
instinct,  which  culminates  in  the  formative  period,^ 
now  merges  into  a  deeper  interest  that  seeks  to  discover 
causes  and  to  trace  out  hidden  relations ;  and  the  instinct 
of  property  which,  as  early  as  four  or  five,  found  a  primi- 
tive expression  in  aimless  and  trivial  collections^  now 
takes  a  rational  and  human  form.  All  or  almost  all 
the  instincts  that  dominate  early  childhood  are  inten- 
sified during  adolescence,  but,  owing  to  the  culture  of 
the  preceding  years  and  to  the  modifying  influence  of 
the  new  "consciousness  of  kind,"  they  seek  a  far  dif- 
ferent expression. 
All   these   factors   operate   to   heighten   the   capacity 

1  E.  H.  Lindley :  "A  Study  of  Puzzles,"  Pedagogical  Seminary,  voL  vii, 

pp.  431-443- 

^  C.  V.  P.urk :  "  The  Collecting  Instinct,"  Pedagogical  Seminary,  vol,  vii, 
p.  179. 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  I99 

for  logical  reasoning.  The  new  interest  in  causes  and 
hidden  relations  places  a  premium  upon  the  concep- 
tual rather  than  the  practical  judgment.  The  broader 
outlook  renders  condensation  and  some  form  of  sym- 
bolism an  absolute  necessity.  There  is  a  transition 
almost  from  one  extreme  to  the  other ;  where  before  the 
mental  processes  were  intrinsically  concrete  in  their 
meaning,  where  the  detailed  and  particular  were  wholly 
dominant,  there  is  now  a  tendency,  sometimes  almost 
a  yearning,  toward  the  most  profound  abstractions. 
The  broad  conceptions  of  science,  the  comprehensive 
movements  of  history,  the  critical  interpretations  of 
literature,  are  now  thoroughly  in  place.  "Neither  you 
nor  I,  however  specialized  our  knowledge,  know  any- 
thing really  worth  knowing  the  substance  of  which  can- 
not be  taught  now  if  we  have  pedagogical  tact."  ^ 

II.  This  truth  is  even  more  forcibly  impressed  when 
we  turn  to  the  moral  characteristics  of  adolescence. 
The  profound  emotional  changes  combine  with  this 
broadening  of  the  intellectual  horizon  to  make  this  period 
the  great  breeding-ground  of  ideals,  and  it  is  the  inevi- 
table clash  and  conflict  of  these  ideals  that  justify  the 
term  "storm  and  stress  period,"  so  frequently  applied 
to  later  adolescence.  The  profound  religious  awak- 
ening on  the  one  hand  and  the  stronger  tendencies 
toward  criminality  on  the  other  mark  the  extremes  in 
the  post-pubertal  development  of  the  sentiments.     Con- 

1  Hall ;  lifea/  School,  p.  485. 


20O  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

duct  is  organized  on  a  much  more  elaborate  plan 
Motive,  which  has  hitherto  been  determined  by  the 
primitive  standards  of  immediate  pleasure  and  pain,  now 
takes  its  cue  from  desires  that  look  to  reahzation  far 
in  the  future. 

From  these  facts,  it  follows  that  the  methods  of  moral 
culture  must  be  transformed  almost  in  a  day.  Just 
as  in  mental  training  "the  drill  and  mechanism  of  the 
previous  period  must  be  relaxed,"  so,  in  moral  training, 
the  arbitrary  and  authoritative  rulings  that  have  hith- 
erto been  the  mainstay  must  now  give  place  to  reason. 
All  forms  of  punishment  that  appeal  to  the  fear  of  physi- 
cal pain  are  beyond  doubt  always  more  productive  of 
evil  than  of  good  in  the  normal  adolescent,  no  matter 
how  serious  his  offense.  If  he  cannot  see  in  what  man- 
ner the  inhibitions  and  repressions  that  are  demanded 
of  him  will  conduce  to  his  ultimate  well-being,  it  will 
be  next  to  impossible  to  compel  these  restrictions  through 
physical  force  and  at  the  same  time  fail  to  work  an  irre- 
mediable injury.  He  feels  that  he  has  left  such  methods 
behind  him  in  the  stage  from  which  he  has  just  emerged, 
and  it  is  pedagogical  wisdom  to  respect  this  conviction, 
even  at  some  sacrifice. 

12.  Summary.  The  foregoing  analysis  must,  of  course, 
be  subject  to  whatever  revisions  future  investigations 
in  the  field  of  child  study  may  dictate;  but  in  the  light 
that  is  now  available  it  would  seem  to  indicate  in  no 
uncertain  terms  that  the  child  at  different  levels  of  his 


PERIODS    OF    DEVELOPMENT  ;20I 

growth   has   diflferent   needs   and   capacities   that   must         ^ 
be  catered  to  m  different  ways.    It  consequently  follows  .  l'k^!^ 
that   the   factors   conditioning  the   recall   of  experienced" "*^^ 
cannot  be  intelligently  applied  to  the  educative  process 
without   taking   into   account   these   varying   character- 
istics.   The    following    conclusions    attempt    to    formu- 
late such  an  interpretation;    if  they  seem  to  assume  a 
too  rigid  demarcation  between  periods,  it  is  because  the 
writer  is  convinced  that  this  type  of  possible  error  is 
a  far  safer  risk  in  the  present  connection  than  its  oppo- 
site would  be. 

(i)  The  factor  that  operates  most  effectively  in  the 
transition  period  is  vivid  portrayal  dealing  almost  ex- 
clusively with  concrete  experiences.  Repetition  is  fre- 
quently in  order,  provided  that  it  involves  a  minimum 
of  strain  and  fatigue.  Logical  reasoning  is  thoroughly 
out  of  place,  and  symbols  must  not  be  used  apart  from 
a  direct  connection  with  the  concrete  experiences  for 
which  they  stand.  Moral  culture  is  of  a  strictly  pleas- 
ure-pain type  with  pleasure  predominating. 

(2)  In  the  formative  period,  repetition  is  the  watch- 
word, but  it  should  be  strongly  supplemented  by  vivid 
portrayal  and,  in  the  later  stages,  by  the  simpler  opera- 
tions of  logical  reasoning.  Symbols  should  still  be 
closely  associated  with  the  concrete,  but  there  is  some 
place  for  the  operation  of  verbal  memory  through  repe- 
tition, even  if  the  underlying  conceptions  have  not  been 
thoroughly  traced  out.    The  more  specific  moral  habita 


202  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

should  be  thoroughly  automatized;  their  advantage 
,,,  ta  the  child's  immediate  well-being  should  be  clearly 
'"'"  shown  if  possible;  in  case  this  is  out  of  the  question, 
moral  rules  should  be  arbitrarily  enforced  until  adjust- 
ments that  harmonize  with  them  have  become  matters 
of  habit. 

(3)  Organization  or  logical  reasoning  holds  undis- 
puted sway  in  the  adolescent  stage.  There  is,  however, 
abundant  opportunity  for  vivid  portrayal  provided  that 
it  cooperates  with  organization;  and  some  slight  place 
for  repetition  provided  that  the  need  for  it  originates 
in  the  child  himself,  and  provided  that  it  operates  upon 
processes  already  organized.  Moral  culture  is  now 
entirely  of  the  rational  type,  and  future  rather  than 
immediate  well-being  can  be  safely  appealed  to.  Ex- 
alted ideals  can  and  must  be  developed,  with  which 
immoral  action  will  be  clearly  seen  to  be  inconsistent; 
and  moral  instruction,  before  largely  impersonal,  must 
now  be  strongly  tinged  with  inspiration. 


PART   V.      THE    SELECTION    OF    EX- 
PERIENCES FOR  EDUCATIONAL 
PURPOSES:    EDUCATIONAL 
VALUES 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Formal   versus    Intrinsic    Values    of    Experience: 
THE  Doctrine  of  Formal  Discipline 

I.  Until  very  recently,  the  experiences  that  the  school 
attempted  to  impart  were  divided  into  two  classes:  (i) 
those  which  were  or  might  be  intrinsically  valuable 
to  the  individual  in  facing  future  situations,  and  (2) 
those  which  were  not  intrinsically  valuable  but  which 
were  believed  to  develop  certain  general  tendencies 
to  reaction  that  would  insure  a  definite  response  to  situa- 
tions of  different  types.  In  a  sense,  this  was  a  very  broad 
extension  of  the  differences,  already  noted,  between  habit 
and  judgment.  Certain  subjects  of  the  curriculum, 
if  properly  pursued,  were  believed  to  develop  what  might 
be  termed  "generalized"  habits.  A  simple  habit  is 
a  specific  response  to  a  specific  stimulus;  a  general- 
ized habit  would  be  a  specific  response  common  to  a 
number  of  different  stimuli. 

For  example,  a  pupil  may  acquire  the  specific  habit  of  pro- 
ducing neat  papers  in  arithmetic.    The  doctrine  of  forma] 

203 


204  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

discipline  assumes  that  if  this  habit  is  once  thoroughly  estab- 
lished, it  will  function  equally  well  in  connection  with  language 
and  drawing ;  that,  functioning  successfully  here,  it  cannot  fail 
to  insure  neatness  of  person  and  attire ;  and  that  the  habit  of 
neatness  thus  ingrained  upon  the  pupil  will  surely  be  carried 
over  into  mature  years. 

Again,  it  has  been  assumed  that  the  study  of  mathematics 
trains  general  habits  of  reasoning,  that  nature  study  trains  gen- 
eral habits  of  observation,  and  that  all  branches,  properly  pur- 
sued, train  general  habits  of  industry.  Analogously,  it  was 
assumed  that  the  capacity  for  memory  was  capable  of  improve- 
ment through  formal  discipline,  and  the  study  of  the  ancient 
languages  has  frequently  been  justified  on  this  ground. 

The  extent  to  which  this  doctrine  has  been  applied 
is  plainly  apparent  from  the  most  cursory  study  of  the 
traditional  curricula  of  the  higher  schools.  While  many 
of  the  facts  and  principles  embodied  in  these  curricula 
can  probably  be  otherwise  justified,  it  still  remains  true 
that  they  have  held  their  place  almost  solely  upon  this 
supposition;  and  even  in  the  elementary  school,  the 
instruction  in  grammar  and  to  some  extent  the  instruc- 
tion in  arithmetic  have  been  governed  by  the  supposed 
operation  of  this  factor. 

2.  It  is  clear  that,  so  far  as  a  "generalized  habit" 
is  concerned,  the  term  is  a  psychological  absurdity. 
The  very  essence  of  a  habit  is  the  specific  character 
of  its  response.  An  habitual  adjustment  is  a  definite 
reaction  called  forth  by  some  specific  stimulus  or  com- 
bination of  stimuli,  and  if  habit  were  capable  of  being 
generalized,  the  utib'ty  of  judgment  or  conscious  adjust- 


DOCTRINE   OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  20$ 

ment  would  be  greatly  diminished.  But  while  this 
theoretical  evidence  is  unquestionably  sound,  it  has  not 
operated  to  prove  the  theory  of  formal  discipUne  to  be  a 
practical  fallacy;  largely,  perhaps,  because  actual  expe- 
rience seems  to  demonstrate  that,  notwithstanding  the 
theoretical  absurdity  of  the  statement,  habits  are  gen- 
eralized. Cases  are  cited  in  the  Uterature,  and  can  easily 
be  multipUed  from  individual  experience,  which  indi- 
cate that  a  thorough  training  in  the  mathematical  dis- 
ciplines has  given  one  an  increased  capacity  for  efficient 
reasoning  in  other  lines,  and  that  insistence  upon  neat 
work  has  had  a  beneficial  effect  upon  the  neatness  of 
person  and  dress.  In  fact,  so  conclusive  is  this  empiri- 
cal evidence  that  the  theoretical  impossibility  carries 
but  little  weight. 

3.  This  condition  amounts  almost  to  a  paradox,  and 
indicates  the  need  of  careful  experiments  based  upon 
accurate  methods.  Such  experiments  have  been  con- 
ducted at  Columbia  University  within  the  past  few  years 
with  very  suggestive  results.  The  general  problem  was 
the  influence  that  special  forms  of  training  may  have 
upon  related  functions. 

"Individuals  practiced  estimating  the  areas  of  rectangles 
from  10  to  100  sq.  cm.  in  size  until  a  very  marked  improve- 
ment was  attained.  The  improvement  in  accuracy  for  areas  of 
the  same  size  but  of  different  shapes,  due  to  this  training,  was 
only  44  per  cent  as  great  as  that  for  areas  of  the  same  shape 
and  size.  For  areas  of  the  same  shape  but  from  140-300  sq. 
cm.  in  size  the  improvement  was  30  per  cent  as  great.     For 


206  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

areas  of  different  shape  and  from  140-400  sq.  cm.  in  size  the 
improvement  was  52  per  cent  as  great. 

"Training  in  estimating  weights  of  from  40-100  g.  resulted 
in  only  39  per  cent  as  much  improvement  in  estimating  weights 
from  120  to  1800  g.  Training  in  estimating  lines  from  .5  to 
1.5  in.  long  (resulting  in  a  reduction  of  error  to  25  per  cent  of 
the  initial  amount)  resulted  in  no  improvement  in  the  esti- 
mation of  lines  6-12  in.  long. 

"  Training  in  perceiving  words  containing  e  and  s  gave  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  improvement  in  speed  and  accuracy  in  that 
special  ability.  In  the  ability  to  perceive  words  containing  t 
and  /,  s  and  /,  c  and  a,  e  and  r,  a  and  n,  I  and  0,  misspelled 
words  and  As,  there  was  an  improvement  in  speed  of  only 
39  per  cent  as  much  as  in  the  ability  specially  trained,  and  in 
accuracy  of  only  25  per  cent  as  much.  Training  in  perceiving 
English  verbs  gave  a  reduction  in  time  of  nearly  21  per  cent 
and  in  omissions  of  70  per  cent.  The  ability  to  perceive  other 
parts  of  speech  showed  a  reduction  in  time  of  3  per  cent,  but 
an  increase  on  omissions  of  over  100  per  cent."^ 

Professors  E.  L.  Thomdike  and  R.  S.  Woodworth, 
who  conducted  these  experiments,  reached  the  following 
conclusions :  ^  — 

"Improvement,  in  any  single  mental  function,  need 
not  improve  the  ability  in  functions,  commonly  called 
by  the  same  name.     It  may  injure  it. 

"Improvement  in  any  single  mental  function  rarely 
brings  about  equal  improvement  in  any  other  function, 

1  E.  L.  Thomdike:  Educational  Psychology,  New  York,  1903,  p.  90; 
for  details,  see  Thomdike  and  Woodworth :  "  The  Influence  of  Improve- 
ment in  One  Mental  Function  upon  the  Efficiency  of  Other  Functions," 
in  Psychological  Review,  1 901,  vol.  viii,  pp.  247-26 1,  384-395. 

'  Thomdike,  op.  cif.,  p.  91. 


DOCTRINE    OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  207 

no  matter  how  similar,  for  the  working  of  every  mental 
function  group  is  conditioned  by  the  nature  of  the  data 
in  each  particular  case. 

"The  very  slight  amount  of  variation  in  the  nature 
of  the  data  necessary  to  affect  the  efficiency  of  a  function 
group  makes  it  fair  to  infer  that  no  change  in  the  data, 
however  slight,  is  without  effect  on  the  function.  The 
loss  in  the  efficiency  of  a  function  trained  with  certain 
data,  as  we  pass  to  data  more  and  more  unlike  the  first, 
makes  it  fair  to  infer  that  there  is  always  a  point  where 
loss  is  complete,  a  point  beyond  which  the  influence 
of  the  training  has  not  extended.  The  rapidity  of  this 
loss  —  that  is,  its  amount  in  the  case  of  data  very  similar 
to  the  data  on  which  the  function  was  trained  —  makes 
it  fair  to  infer  that  this  point  is  nearer  than  has  been 
supposed. 

"The  general  consideration  of  the  cases  of  retention, 
or  of  loss  of  practice  effect,  seems  to  make  it  unHkely 
that  spread  of  practice  occurs  only  where  identical  ele- 
ments are  concerned  in  the  influencing  and  influenced 
function." 

Dr.  Naomi  Norsworthy-^  carried  on  similar  experi- 
ments with  school  children,  using  similar  methods  and 
reaching  the  following  conclusions :  — 

"It  seems  probable  that  certain  functions  which  are 
of  importance  in  school  work,  such  as  quickness  in  arith- 

1  N.  Norsworthy :  "  Formal  Training,"  in  New  York  Teacher^  Mono- 
graphs,  1902,  vol.  iv,  pp.  96-99. 


208  THE  EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

metic,  accuracy  in  spelling,  attention  to  forms,  etc, 
are  highly  speciaUzed  and  not  secondary  results  of  some 
general  function.  That  just  as  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  general  memory,  so  there  is  no  such  thing  as  general 
quickness  or  accuracy  or  observation.  .  .  .  Accuracy 
in  spelHng  is  independent  of  accuracy  in  multipUcation, 
and  quickness  in  arithmetic  is  not  found  with  quickness 
in  marking  misspelled  words ;  abiUty  to  pick  out  the  word 
*boy'  on  a  printed  page  is  no  guarantee  that  the  child 
will  be  able  to  pick  out  a  geometrical  form  with  as  great 
ease  and  accuracy." 

At  the  Montana  State  Normal  College  careful  experi- 
ments ^  were  undertaken  to  determine  whether  the  habit 
of  producing  neat  papers  in  arithmetic  will  function 
with  reference  to  neat  written  work  in  other  studies; 
the  tests  were  confined  to  the  intermediate  grades.  The 
results  are  almost  startUng  in  their  failure  to  show  the 
shghtest  improvement  in  language  and  speUing  papers, 
although  the  improvement  in  the  arithmetic  papers  was 
noticeable  from  the  very  first. 

4.  The  very  decided  trend  of  all  this  experimental 
evidence  seems  to  indicate  that  the  theoretical  impossi- 
biUty  of  a  generalized  habit  —  either  "marginal"  or  sub- 
conscious—  is  thoroughly  substantiated  by  accurate 
tests.    There    still    remains,    however,    the    widespread 

1  These  experiments  were  planned  by  Dr.  Carrie  R.  Squire  and  con- 
ducted by  Margaret  Ross,  Lilian  Lambrecht,  and  Frances  Chase,  students 
in  the  coUege. 


DOCTRINE    OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  209 

notion  that  formal  training  is  generalized,  and  whatever 
cases  may  be  adduced  stand  against  the  evidence  from 
experiment.  Professor  Thorndike  ^  disposes  of  such 
cases  in  three  ways :  (i)  where  specific  training  is  thought 
to  spread  out  and  affect  other  functions,  it  may  simply 
mean  that  the  individual  in  whom  this  tendency  seems 
to  be  evinced  is  really  inherently  more  capable  than 
the  average;  therefore,  if  he  shows  particular  aptitudes 
for  the  study  of  Latin,  he  may  later  excel  in  Greek,  not 
because  the  pursuit  of  Latin  has  necessarily  improved 
the  functions  that  operate  in  the  study  of  Greek,  but 
because  the  individual  is  "bound"  to  excel  in  anything. 

(2)  Certain  effects  commonly  attributed  to  disciphne 
are  really  due  to  "mere  inner  growth  and  maturity." 

(3)  Educators  tend  to  judge  all  children  on  the  basis 
of  their  own  childhood,  —  a  fallacious  procedure,  because 
educators  "are  hkely  to  be  gifted  men  who  could  as  boys 
and  girls  readily  acquire  and  apply  general  ideas  and 
habits." 

Professor  O'Shea,^  whose  discussion  of  this  matter 
is  especially  clarifying,  would  ascribe  the  seeming  "  spread" 
of  special  training  to  the  fact  that  many  Unes  of  activity, 
differing  in  several  characteristics,  may  yet  have  some 
characteristics  in  common.  If  such  is  the  case,  training 
in  one  may  promote  efficiency  in  the  others.  "The 
geometrical  method  is  incorporated,  as  it  were,  in  the 

*  Thorndike,  op.  cit.,  p.  93. 

2  M.  V.  O'Shea :  Education  as  Adjustment,  pp.  27 1  ft 

I 


2IO  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

more  involved  method  of  physics,  and  it  would  seem 
most  economical  to  have  the  student  famihar  with  the 
method  of  geometry  before  he  undertakes  the  study  of 
physics.  So,  too,  the  method  gained  in  the  observa- 
tion of  plant  life  will  be  of  assistance  in  observing  human 
Hfe." 

All  these  explanations,  however,  seem  to  leave  some- 
thing unaccounted  for.  What  this  something  is,  from 
the  writer's  standpoint,  may  appear  in  the  following 
cases. 

The  writer  believes  that  he  has  acquired  a  passable  habit  of 
industry  in  connection  with  his  school  work.  He  is  fairly  regu- 
lar in  his  hours  of  rising  and  retiring ;  he  goes  to  his  class  room 
and  laboratory  at  stated  periods,  and  accomplishes  a  fairly 
uniform  allotment  of  work  each  day.  This  routine  goes  on 
day  after  day  throughout  the  school  year.  Of  course  the  daily 
tasks  present  some  degree  of  individuality;  new  situations 
will  arise  which  must  be  met  and  mastered.  But,  in  general, 
the  day's  work  is  reduced  to  the  plane  of  habit.  The  "  work 
attitude  "  is  assumed  at  a  definite  time  and  dropped  at  a  defi- 
nite time.  It  forms,  as  it  were,  a  large  ring  of  habit,  within 
which  are  smaller  rings,  and  within  these  and  across  them  are 
the  dots  and  chains  of  focalized  efiFort. 

But  outside  these  rings  of  habit,  within  which  the  day's 
work  is  accomplished,  persistent  effort  is  distasteful  and 
unsatisfactory.  If  the  writer  attempts  to  "  carry  over  "  his 
habit  of  industry  fi"om  the  class  room  to  the  wood  pile,  nature 
rebels.  His  tendency  at  such  times,  he  frankly  confesses,  is  to 
**  loaf"  and  temporize.  The  summer  months  are  spent  upon  a 
farm.  Here  it  is  to  his  advantage  —  hygienic  and  otherwise  — 
to  take  a  serious  part  in  the  farm  work ;  yet  his  first  tendency 
is  antagonistic  to  industry.     He  does  not  crave  inaction,  but  he 


DOCTRINE   OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  211 

dislikes  the  persistent  effort  that  one  identifies  with  work  as  dis« 
tinguished  from  the  temporary  and  ever  changing  activity  which, 
however  strenuous  it  may  be  while  it  lasts,  is  still  closely  akin 
to  play.  The  first  day  may  go  off  very  well,  for  it  is  a  change 
and  presents  a  certain  element  of  novelty ;  but  for  several  days 
afterward  industry  is  a  constant  battle  against  nature.  In 
the  course  of  time,  however,  the  farm  work  becomes  as  much 
a  matter  of  course  as  the  school  work  has  previously  been. 
That  is,  a  new  habit  of  industry  has  been  acquired  through  a 
period — longer  or  shorter — of  strenuous,  conscious  effort. 

It  seems  perfectly  clear  that,  in  this  case  at  least,  the 
habit  of  industry  —  the  ability  to  sustain  a  line  of  con- 
tinuous effort  with  a  minimum  of  conscious  "prodding" 
to  a  fairly  remote  end  —  is  not  carried  over  from  school 
life  to  farm  life.  And  yet  something  is  carried  over. 
The  formation  of  the  new  habit  of  work  is  undoubtedly 
more  economical  of  time  and  energy  than  it  would  be 
had  not  a  habit  of  work  already  been  developed  in  another 
field. 

Again,  the  writer  is  convinced  that  students  who  come  into 
his  classes  in  psychology  after  completing  thorough  courses  in 
the  higher  mathematics  do  far  better  work  than  those  who 
have  not  had  this  "  training."  Something  has  been  carried 
over  from  one  study  to  the  other.  It  is  certainly  not  the  habit 
of  study,  nor  are  the  points  that  mathematics  and  psychology 
have  in  common  sufficient  to  account  for  this  difference. 

The  paradox  reaches  its  chmax  in  the  case  of  habits 
of  neatness.  Here  the  experiments  indubitably  vahdate 
the  general  law  that  habit  is  specific.  General  experi- 
ence seems  to  confirm  this  experimental  verdict  on  one 


212  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

hand  and  to  deny  it  on  another.  The  writer  has  a  frienc) 
who  is  scrupulously  neat  in  his  personal  attire  and  yet 
whose  desk  and  study  are  samples  of  conspicuous  con- 
fusion. He  has  another  friend  who  is  neat  almost  to 
the  point  of  femininity  in  the  details  of  his  work  and 
yet  careless  to  the  point  of  slovenliness  in  his  attire. 
So  far  the  specific  character  of  cleanly  adjustments 
seems  to  be  confirmed.  But  he  can,  at  the  same  time, 
count  a  dozen  among  his  acquaintances  who  are  neat 
in  all  departments  of  life  and  a  few,  at  least,  who  are 
slovenly  in  everything  that  they  are  concerned  with. 
Here  it  seems  at  first  sight  that  the  habit  is  generalized. 

And  yet  it  is  these  last  exceptions  that  really  prove 
the  rule.  If  it  were  the  tendency  of  habit  to  become 
generalized,  neat  adjustments  in  one  activity  would  mean 
neat  adjustments  in  all  activities  in  all  individuals.  That 
it  does  hold  with  some  individuals,  but  not  with  all, 
is  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  habit,  as  such,  is  not  gen- 
eralized. But  that  there  is  some  link  that  joins  all  spe- 
cific habits  of  neatness  is  perfectly  apparent  to  any  one 
who  may  have  a  particularly  "tidy"  acquaintance. 

5.  What,  then,  is  the  connecting  link  between  habits 
of  different  species  and  the  same  genus?  The  distinc- 
tion already  noted  between  habit  and  judgment  suggests 
that,  just  as  the  latter  may  initiate  the  former,  so  judg- 
ment may  connect  and  establish  a  functional  relation 
between  two  specific  habits.  In  other  words,  what  I 
carry  over  from  my  school  work  to  my  farm  work  is 


DOCTRINE    OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  213 

not  a  generalized  habit  of  work,  but  a  generalized  idedH 
of  work.  It  is  something  that  functions  in  the  focus 
of  consciousness  and  hence  cannot  be  identified  with 
habit,  which  always  functions  either  marginally  or  sub- 
consciously. This  ideal  furnishes  a  motive  and  this  mo- 
tive holds  me  to  conscious,  persistent  effort  until  the  new 
habit  has  become  effective,  until  the  distracting  influences 
no  longer  solicit  passive  attention.  //  /  had  acquired  a 
specific  habit  of  work  in  one  field  without  at  the  same 
time  acquiring  a  general  ideal  of  work,  my  acquisition  of 
a  specific  habit  in  another  field  would  probably  not  be  mate- 
rially benefited. 

Similarly  with  the  habits  of  mental  application  or 
study.  The  students  who  come  to  psychology  from  the 
mathematical  courses  have  no  generalized  habit  of  study, 
but  they  have  an  ideal  of  study.  They  have  penetrated 
pretty  deeply  into  abstract  problems  and,  along  with 
their  drudgery,  they  have  experienced  some  delight  of 
achievement,  some  of  the  pleasure  that  attaches  to  suc- 
cessful effort.  It  may  be  that  mathematics  has  given 
them  nothing  but  this,  but  this  is  enough  to  hold  them 
to  their  new  task  until  a  new  and  specific  habit  of  psy- 
chological study  has  been  estabhshed. 

Similarly,  too,  with  the  habit  of  neatness.  Those 
who  appear  to  carry  this  habit  over  from  one  department 
of  life  to  another  really  carry  over  the  ideal  of  neatness. 
This  explains  why  some  persons  are  neat  in  their  work 
and  untidy  in  their  dress,  while  others  are  neat  in  their 


214  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

dress  and  untidy  in  their  work,  and  still  others  are  neat 
in  both  work  and  dress.  An  ideal  is  an  individual 
factor.  One  may  be  neat  in  one's  work  from  other 
motives  than  a  general  ideal  of  neatness.  Neat  work 
may  be  an  essential  to  success;  neat  work  may  mean 
economy  of  effort;  neat  work  may  mean  a  thousand 
other  things  that  have  no  relation  whatsoever  to  neatness 
of  dress  and  person. 

The  word  "disciphne"  implies  a  mechanizing  process 
—  the  formation  of  an  habitual  reaction  that  shall  func- 
tion with  Httle  or  no  effort  of  attention  after  it  has  once 
been  firmly  established.  But,  in  its  initial  stages,  the 
process  of  habit  building  must  always  be  conscious  — 
focal.  There  must  necessarily  be  effort,  —  struggle  to 
hold  one's  self  to  the  Une,  —  struggle  to  resist  the  normal 
desire  for  change.  Gradually  this  struggle  becomes 
less  and  less  strenuous  until  finally  the  process  is  com- 
pletely mechanized.  This  mechanizing,  however,  must 
be  thoroughly  specific  in  the  narrowest  sense  of  this 
term ;  and  if  the  line  of  work  is  changed  ever  so  slightly, 
a  new  habit  must  be  formed.  This  means  a  refocali- 
zation,  a  new  period  of  conscious  effort,  and  it  is  at  this 
point  that  what  we  have  termed  the  ideal  has  its  sphere 
of  activity. 

6.  The  factor  of  ideals  may  operate  with  equal  effi- 
ciency in  connecting  specific  functions  other  than  habits. 
Th6  Columbia  experiments  seem  to  indicate  that  "rea- 
soning" processes  are  as  thoroughly  individual  as  are 


DOCTRINE   OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  2I5 

habits,  and  it  is  seriously  to  be  doubted  whether  the  dis- 
cipline of  geometry  or  any  other  form  of  the  higher  mathe- 
matics will  enable  the  student  to  "reason"  any  better 
in  biology  or  poUtical  economy.  Indeed,  the  very  fact 
that  specialists  in  mathematics  are  not  infrequently 
handicapped  in  making  effective  judgments  in  other 
fields  would  speak  strongly  against  a  general  capacity 
for  reasoning.-^  Nevertheless,  a  training  in  mathematics 
may  well  give  a  student  ideals  of  exact  methods  of  pro- 
cedure in  getting  at  truth,  and  these  ideals  can  be  gener- 
alized to  any  extent  that  one  desires.  It  is  needless  to 
say,  however,  that  mathematics  can  be  taught  without 
impressing  such  ideals,  and  it  is  equally  easy  to  see  that 
a  high  degree  of  mathematical  proficiency  does  not 
necessarily  mean  that  such  ideals  function. 

The  pursuit  of  natural  science  may  similarly  develop 
ideals  of  observation.  This  does  not  mean  that  the  stu- 
dent who  has  pursued  natural  science  will  thereby  have 
gained  a  tendency  to  make  acute  observations  in  fields 
other  than  those  in  which  he  is  proficient;  he  will  be 
no  more  Ukely  to  note  a  two-bit  piece  lying  between  the 
cracks  of  the  sidewalk  than  his  unscientific  brother; 
and  it  is  certainly  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  not  have  ac- 
quired an  abnormal  disposition  to  see  the  mote  that  may 
lie  in  this  brother's  eye.  But  if  he  passes  from  the  study 
of  biology  to  the  study  of  psychology,  he  may  easily  make 
some  such  judgment  as  this:  "Careful  observation  is 

1  Cf.  O'Shea,  op.  at.,  p.  266. 


2l6  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

the  basal  principle  of  truth  getting  in  biology;  it  may 
work  equally  well  in  psychology;  therefore  I  shall  ac- 
quire a  new  habit  of  psychological  observation." 

7.  The  important  lesson  for  education  in  connection 
with  ideals  is  apparent  from  these  examples.  The  doc- 
trine of  formal  discipHne  assumed  that  the  mastery  of 
a  certain  subject  gave  one  an  increased  power  to  master 
other  subjects.  It  is  clear  that  there  is  a  certain  amount 
of  truth  in  this  statement,  provided  that  we  understand 
very  clearly  that  this  increased  power  must  always  take 
the  form  of  an  ideal  that  will  function  as  judgment  and 
not  of  an  unconscious  predisposition  that  will  function  as 
habit.  In  other  words,  unless  the  ideal  has  been  devel- 
oped consciously,  there  can  be  no  certainty  that  the  power 
will  be  increased,  no  matter  how  intrinsically  well  the 
subject  may  have  been  mastered. 

The  factor  of  ideals  does  not  appear  in  the  experi- 
ments noted  above  simply  because  the  experiments 
demanded  its  elimination.  The  problem  under  inves- 
tigation was  whether  a  habit  can  be  carried  over  as  habit, 
not  refocaUzed  and  made  to  function  as  idea  or  ideal. 
In  the  tests  of  neatness,  for  example,  it  was  distinctly 
understood  that  the  pupils  should  have  no  general  in- 
struction on  neatness  as  an  ideal.  Neatness  was  exacted 
of  them  in  arithmetic,  and  the  matter  ended  there. 

The  passing  of  the  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  cer- 
tainly does  not  detract  in  the  least  from  the  serious 
responsibility  of  the  school  to  develop  specific  habits  of 


DOCTRINE    OF    FORMAL    DISCIPLINE  21/ 

cleanliness,  industry,  and  mental  application  in  the  par- 
ticular and  specific  line  of  work  with  which  it  is  con- 
cerned; for,  if  the  carrying  over  of  a  good  habit  from 
one  occupation  to  another  demands  a  process  of  judg- 
ment dependent  upon  an  ideal,  surely  this  ideal  can  be 
strengthened  and  sustained  only  by  a  cultivation  of  the 
specific  habits  that  form  its  concrete  expression.  It 
would  be  futile  to  instill  ideals  of  cleanliness,  industry, 
and  honor  in  the  schools,  expecting  them  to  be  applied 
in  later  life,  if,  at  the  same  time,  the  antitheses  of  these 
ideals  —  filth  and  sloth  and  vice  —  were  tolerated  in 
the  daily  experience  of  the  pupils. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

The  Development  of  Ideals  the  Chief  Work  o* 
Education 

1.  If  the  conclusions  of  the  last  chapter  are  valid,  it 
follows  that  there  is  an  educative  value  of  experiences 
over  and  above  their  intrinsic  worth  as  facts  or  items 
of  knowledge.  The  experiences  that  the  individual 
acquires  may  carry  with  them  ideals  that  may  later  serve 
to  modify  adjustment  even  more  fundamentally  and  effi- 
ciently than  the  knowledge  itself.  Our  definition  of 
education  must  be  extended  to  include  ideals  as  an  im- 
portant type  of  condensed  experiences  not  always  recog- 
nized in  the  educative  process. 

2.  This  conception  is  especially  important  in  the  light 
of  existing  tendencies.  The  passing  of  the  dogma  of 
formal  discipline  has  greatly  enhanced  intrinsic  values. 
Where  hitherto  subject-matter  has  often  been  justified 
only  by  its  supposed  disciplinary  effect,  such  subject- 
matter  is  now  either  justified  on  other  grounds  or  elimi- 
nated altogether.  This  has  been  a  healthful  reaction, 
for  the  pendulum  undoubtedly  had  swung  too  far  to  the 
other  extreme.  But,  as  the  last  chapter  indicated,  the 
basal  notion  of  disciplinary  values  had  too  large  a  meas- 
ure of  worth  to  be  cast  entirely  aside.     Indeed,  it  is 

218 


DEVELOPMENT   OF    IDEALS  21^ 

\ 

hardly  too  much  to  say  that,  if  one  must  choose  between 
the  two,  the  doctrine  of  formal  discipline,  with  all  its 
fallacies,  would  be  a  far  safer  risk  than  the  doctrine  of 
exclusively  intrinsic  values.  The  mere  subject-matter  of 
knowledge  might  be  likened  to  the  letter  that  killeth; 
the  ideal,  to  the  spirit  that  maketh  aHve. 

It  would  probably  be  difficult  to  overestimate  the 
importance  of  ideals  in  civilized  life.  They  are  the 
dominant  forces  in  all  the  great  movements  of  history. 
Races  and  nations  are  distinguished  from  one  another 
by  their  ideals  far  more  than  by  their  inherent  physical 
and  mental  peculiarities.  In  spite  of  the  elements  that 
foreign  nations  have  contributed  and  are  contributing 
to  the  American  people,  our  nation  is  distinctly  individual 
because  it  has  its  individual  ideals.  The  German,  the 
Celtic,  the  Slavic,  and  the  Romance  ingredients  become 
indistinguishable  after  two  generations  because  their 
distinctive  race  or  national  ideals  have  been  dropped 
and  the  American  ideal  has  been  assimilated.  That  the 
Jewish  people  still  maintain  their  racial  characteristics 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  their  great  ethnic  ideals  are  cher- 
ished from  generation  to  generation  with  a  tenacity  that 
no  other  people  of  history  have  even  approximated. 

Nor  is  the  operation  of  ideals  less  evident  in  individual 
development.  The  impetus  which  family  pride  may 
give  to  individual  effort  is  illustrated  in  such  strains  as 
the  Adamses  of  Massachusetts,  the  Breckenridges  of 
Kentucky,   the   Harrisons   of  Indiana,   and   others   too 


220  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

numerous  to  mention.  The  very  fact  that  one's  for- 
bears  have  accomplished  things  and  attained  to  high 
places  among  their  fellows  may  form  a  most  effective 
spur  to  the  present  generation.  Certainly  not  all  great 
men's  sons  are  great,  but  this  fact  only  lends  confirma- 
tion to  our  hypothesis,  for  the  ideal  may  or  may  not  be 
developed;  while,  if  the  tendency  to  preeminence  were 
transmitted  physically  there  should  be  no  such  exceptions 
as  we  now  find. 

The  esprit  de  corps  that  is  expressed  in  loyalty  to  one's 
school  or  college  is  another  type  of  ideal  that  functions 
effectively  in  spurring  one  on  to  greater  effort.  The 
college  or  the  university  that  can  imbue  its  students 
with  such  loyalty  is  doing  much  more  to  equip  them  for 
the  battle  of  life  than  the  institution  that  simply  instructs, 
no  matter  how  faithfully  that  instruction  may  be  im- 
parted. It  is  largely  for  this  reason  that  the  personal 
influence  of  teacher  and  professor  counts  for  far  more  in 
the  long  run  than  the  mere  mechanical  advantages  of 
libraries  and  laboratories  and  work  shops. 

3.  It  is  safe  to  assert,  then,  that  the  main  aim  in  edu- 
cation is  to  instill  ideals  that  will  function  as  judgments, 
and  that,  in  one  sense  at  least,  the  subject-matter  of 
instruction  must  be  totally  subservient  to  this  aim.  The 
classical  education  of  the  past  undoubtedly  had  little 
worth  in  so  far  as  the  intrinsic  value  of  its  subject-mat- 
ter was  concerned;  but  it  had  immeasurable  worth  in 
so  far  as  the  ideals  that  it  instilled  were  concerned.    If 


DEVELOPMENT    OF    IDEALS  221 

the  new  education  fails  to  develop  equally  effective  ideals, 
its  mission  will  result  in  a  net  loss,  no  matter  how  thor- 
oughly it  may  succeed  from  its  own  intrinsic  standpoint. 
Mark  Hopkins  on  one  end  of  a  log  and  ambitious  youth 
on  the  other  end  are  no  less  the  type  of  a  true  college 
to-day  than  in  the  boyhood  of  Garfield. 

4.  But  can  the  formal  and  the  intrinsic  values  be  sat- 
isfactorily adjusted?  Is  it  possible  to  place  the  main 
emphasis  upon  ideals  and  yet  so  impress  the  more  spe- 
cific judgments  that  they  will  function  effectively? 

The  results  in  typical  cases  seem  to  justify  an  affirm- 
ative answer  to  these  questions.  Intrinsically  useful 
materials  may  just  as  successfully  form  the  basis  for 
the  development  of  ideals  as  intrinsically  useless  mate- 
rials. That  the  student  of  engineering  or  agriculture 
or  commerce  does  not  always  acquire  the  ideals  that 
mark  the  cultured  and  refined  "gentleman"  is  not  the 
fault  of  the  subject-matter,  but  rather  of  the  method. 
The  old  classical  curriculum  did  not  always  produce 
the  desired  result;  in  both  cases  the  subject-matter  is 
always  subservient  to  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  imparted. 
Chemistry  and  physics  and  commercial  geography  can 
be  Jtaught  in  a  mechanical  fashion,  but  so  can  Greek 
and  Latin  and  history.  In  both  cases,  the  result,  in 
so  far  as  ideals  go,  is  precisely  the  same,  but  the  former 
is  the  less  serious  of  the  two  evils,  for  at  any  rate  useful 
knowledge  has  been  acquired,  while  in  the  latter  case  the 
entire  process  is  a  dead  loss.    It  may  be  that  the  ten- 


222  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

dency  toward  mechanical  method  is  stronger  in  the 
former  case.  Everything  that  is  in  the  line  of  progress 
carries  with  it  some  new  and  often  unforeseen  danger; 
and  just  because  scientific  and  technical  instruction  is 
intrinsically  useful,  the  instructor  is  probably  more  likely 
to  miss  the  broader  outlook,  which,  in  turn,  is  more 
easily  retained  when  the  value  of  the  subject-matter 
is  purely  ideal. 

It  may  be  concluded,  then,  that  the  function  of  the 
teacher  is  to  inspire  as  well  as  to  instruct.  Doubtless 
his  task  would  be  materially  simplified  if  one  or  the 
other  of  these  factors  could  be  eliminated,  but  the  time 
when  this  could  be  safely  done  is  past.  New  condi- 
tions impose  new  duties  and  demand  a  readjustment. 
In  this  readjustment  something  will  assuredly  be  lost. 
The  task  must  be  so  to  balance  the  factors  that  a  net 
gain  will  result. 

5.  It  is  difficult  adequately  to  define  in  psychological 
terms  just  what  we  mean  by  the  word  "ideal,"  yet  it 
is  essential  that  the  notion  be  made  as  definite  and  tan- 
gible as  possible  if  the  dangers  of  loose  thinking,  to  which 
educational  science  is  so  prone,  are  to  be  avoided.  The 
following  analysis,  although  quite  inadequate  from  the 
psychological  standpoint,  may  serve  this  purpose  in  some 
measure. 

(i)  An  ideal  is  a  type  of  condensed  experience.  It  is 
the  upshot  of  a  multitude  of  reactions  and  adjustments, 
both  individual  and  racial. 


DEVELOPMENT   OF    IDEALS  32} 

(2)  Because  it  represents  condensed  experience,  it  is 
commonly  formulated  as  a  proposition  or  conceptual 
judgment.  For  example:  "All  men  are  created  free  and 
equal;  "  "The  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number  is 
the  standard  of  conduct;"  etc.  Or  it  may  be  attached 
to  a  single  word  such  as  "honor,"  "chastity,"  "truth," 
"patriotism,"  and  the  Uke. 

(3)  As  a  condensed  experience,  it  functions  in  the 
process  of  judgment.  It  serves  as  a  conscious  guide  to 
conduct,  especially  in  novel  and  critical  situations.  It  func- 
tions in  the  initiation  of  specific  habits,  and  such  habits 
once  formed  may  be  said  to  harmonize  with  the  ideal; 
but  ideals  themselves  do  not  function  as  habit,  although 
the  judgments  that  are  based  upon  them  may  often  be 
of  the  "intuitive"  type. 

(4)  The  development  of  an  ideal  is  both  an  emotional 
and  an  intellectual  process,  but  the  emotional  element  is 
by  far  the  more  important.  Ideals  that  lack  the  emotional 
coloring  are  simply  intellectual  propositions  and  have 
little  directive  force  upon  conduct. 

(5)  Ideals  may  be  classed  as  high  or  low  according 
as  they  are  (a)  concrete  or  abstract ;  (b)  selfish  or  social ; 
(c)    formed  with  reference  to  immediate  or  remote  ends. 

6.  The  above  characteristics  suggest  some  fundamental 
propositions  regarding  the  pedagogy  of  ideals. 

(a)  It  has  already  been  indicated  that  the  period  of 
adolescence  represents  the  best  time  for  the  development 
of  ideals.    This  means  that  the  work  of  the  grammar 


/ 

224  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

grades,  the  high  school,  the  college,  and  the  university 
must  be  organized  with  especial  reference  to  this  factor. 
It  also  means  that  the  personality  of  the  teacher  or 
instructor  during  this  period  is  of  fundamental  impor- 
tance. 

(&)  That  the  emotional  element  is  dominant  in  the 
development  of  ideals  indicates  that  mere  didactic  in 
struction  from  the  intellectual  standpoint  is  not  suffi- 
cient. The  emotional  spirit  of  the  instruction  is  the 
factor  that  counts.  It  is  also  necessary  that  the  ideal  be 
reenforced  and  confirmed  through  as  many  channels 
of  emotional  functioning  as  possible,  —  that  is,  through 
the  forms  of  aesthetic,  intellectual,  and  religious 
sentiment.-'  Art,  literature  (including  poetry,  the  drama, 
and  fiction),  music,  and  rehgion  are  the  great  media 
for  the  transmission  of  ideals  and  as  such  fulfill  an  educa- 
tive function  far  more  fundamental  than  our  didactic 
pedagogy  has  ever  realized.^ 

1  Cf.  E.  B.  Titchener :  Primer  of  Psychology,  ch.  xiL 
*  Cf.  ch.  xviii  below. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The    Intrinsic    Values    of    Different    Types    ob 
Experience 

1.  If  education  is  to  produce  the  socially  eflEicient 
individual,  it  is  essential  that  the  educator  know  in  what 
degree  different  types  of  experience  will  promote  this 
end,  and  particularly  the  relative  values  of  different 
facts  and  principles  —  different  items  of  knowledge  — 
in  their  intrinsic  relation  to  this  end.  These  values  fall 
into  the  five  classes:  (a)  utiUtarian,  (b)  conventional, 
(c)    preparatory,   (d)    theoretical,   and   (e)    sentimental. 

2.  (a)  Utilitarian  Values.  The  utilitarian  value  of 
knowledge  implies  that  its  direct  application  may  serve 
in  the  solution  of  the  problems  and  situations  that  life 
presents.  Detailed  facts  and  general  principles  may 
alike  lend  themselves  to  this  purpose.  If  I  know  that 
eighteen  inches  of  rainfall  are  necessary  to  agriculture 
without  irrigation,  I  shall  certainly  not  settle  in  a  country 
where  the  annual  rainfall  is  below  this  point,  with  the 
expectation  of  making  a  living  by  "dry"  farming.  If 
I  know  that,  to  find  the  interest  on  $600  for  6  months 
at  6  per  cent  I  multiply  $6  by  3,  my  debtor  will  not  be 
able  to  cheat  me.    If,  as  a  sailor,  I  know  that  a  sudden 

Q  ?»5, 


226  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

fall  in  the  barometer  commonly  presages  a  severe  stormj 
I  can  take  in  sail  in  time,  perhaps,  to  avert  a  disaster. 
Facts  and  principles,  then,  have  utilitarian  value 
when  they  can  be  applied  directly  to  some  of  the  needs 
and  situations  of  life.  They  have  a  legitimate  claim  on 
instruction  jrom  this  standpoint  when  it  can  be  shown 
that  their  utility  will  probably  be  called  into  service  by 
the  majority  of  the  pupils  receiving  the  instruction.  Thus 
the  laws  of  percentage  and  interest,  the  rules  for  addition 
and  subtraction,  the  principles  of  commerce,  may  be  said 
to  be  of  probable  value  to  every  individual.  Oppor- 
tunities will  doubtless  present  themselves  in  his  future 
adjustments  when  such  knowledge  will  render  these  ad- 
justments efficient.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many 
facts  and  principles  that  have  no  possible  utilitarian 
value,  and  a  still  larger  number  the  utiHtarian  value  of 
which  will  in  any  case  be  limited  to  certain  classes  of 
the  population.  The  number  of  persons,  for  example, 
who  find  occasion  in  mature  life  to  apply  the  rules  for 
extracting  square  and  cube  root  is  extremely  small,  and 
the  same  statement  could  be  made  with  reference  to  a 
thousand  other  facts  and  principles  that  are  imparted  in 
elementary  instruction.  In  fact,  if  those  items  of  knowl- 
edge that  have  no  utiHtarian  value  were  excluded  from 
the  school  curriculum,  a  very  few  years  would  be  sufii- 
cient  to  cover  the  work. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  a  utilitarian  value  may  not  be  obvi- 
ous upon  the  surface.     This  is  not  the  case  with  the  study  of 


INTRINSIC    VALUES   OF    EXPERIENCE  22^ 

arithmetic,  for  the  utiHty  of  quick  and  accurate  methods  oi 
computation  can  never  be  doubted.  But  this  is  not  so  obvious 
in  the  case  of  geography.  And  yet  if  we  think  of  geography 
as  a  study  of  the  environment  in  its  relation  to  the  Hfe  of  the  in- 
dividual, the  very  definition  seems  to  imply  utility.  Broadly 
speaking,  all  life  is  adjustment  to  an  environment.  Anything 
that  tends  to  render  this  adjustment  more  efficient  is  of  value 
from  the  standpoint  of  utihty.  Whatever  reduces  waste,  what- 
ever saves  time,  energy,  labor,  whatever  increases  wealth  and 
material  prosperity,  may  be  looked  upon  as  utilitarian  in  its 
value.  That  the  facts  of  geography  possess  such  value  is  prob- 
ably not  obvious  at  first  glance,  but  a  few  concrete  instances 
may  serve  to  demonstrate  it. 

The  process  of  distribution  that  is  continually  going  on, 
tending  to  relieve  the  congested  areas  of  the  earth's  surface  and 
to  populate  the  undeveloped  areas,  may  take  place  either 
blindly  or  intelligently.  In  the  former  case,  lack  of  accurate 
information  concerning  the  conditions  of  different  regions  — 
their  relative  productivity,  healthfulness,  etc.  —  leads  to  a 
chance  or  fortuitous  selection  of  favorable  environments.  That 
is,  under  conditions  of  geographical  ignorance,  migratory 
movements  frequently  entail  a  tremendous  material  waste,  — 
to  say  nothing  of  human  suffering.  We  have  already  referred 
to  the  misfortunes  that  followed  the  wild  rush  into  the  semi-arid 
regions  of  western  Kansas  and  Nebraska  in  the  early  eighties. 
This  migratory  movement  was  a  mistake  due  to  ignorance  of 
geographical  conditions.  To-day  the  work  of  the  scientific 
bureaus  of  the  national  government  is  devoted  to  the  gathering 
of  accurate  information  regarding  the  temperature,  rainfall,  fer- 
tility, and  salubrity  of  various  parts  of  the  country.  Annually 
a  vast  mass  of  information  is  published,  —  information  which 
is,  in  its  very  essence,  geographical  knowledge.  The  pupils  in 
the  upper  grades  of  the  elementary  schools  should  certainly  be 
made  acquainted  with  the  sources  of  this  information  and 
trained  in  its  interpretation. 


228  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

The  merchant  engaged  in  the  export  trade  has  no  longer  ta 
send  his  vessels  to  distant  shores  on  the  chance  that  a  market 
may  be  found  for  his  goods.  The  "  Consular  Reports  "  pub- 
lished by  the  government  give  accurate  information  concerning 
the  commercial  geography  of  foreign  countries,  —  what  goods 
are  in  demand,  at  what  profit  they  may  be  sold,  what  duty  must 
be  paid  for  their  importation,  what  commodities  do  not  find  a 
sale,  and  a  host  of  other  valuable  facts,  knowledge  of  which 
will  operate  to  reduce  losses  and  increase  profits.  All  this 
geographical  knowledge  is  important  from  the  utilitarian  point 
of  view  to  many  different  classes  of  people.  It  is  knowledge 
which  the  merchant,  the  farmer,  the  manufacturer,  and  the 
legislator  may  frequently  use  to  their  advantage.  And  the 
laborer,  seeking  a  market  for  his  labor,  may  be  just  as  materi- 
ally benefited  by  such  knowledge  as  the  manufacturer  seeking 
a  market  for  his  products. 

The  writer  once  proposed  this  question  to  an  eighth-grade 
class  that  had  been  exceptionally  well  prepared  in  commercial 
geography :  "  The  Great  Northern  Railroad  recently  sent  a 
representative  to  Asiatic  Russia  to  study  the  trans-Siberian 
Railroad,  which  was  then  just  completed :  what  motives  led 
the  management  to  take  this  step?"  A  variety  of  answers 
were  obtained,  nearly  all  showing  commendable  acumen  of 
thought.  They  were  criticised  by  the  class  with  the  aid  of  sug- 
gestive questions,  and  the  conclusion  was  finally  reached  that 
the  Great  Northern  directors  were  anxious  to  know  whether 
they  could  compete  with  Russia  in  supplying  wheat  and  flour 
to  the  Oriental  market.  A  member  of  the  class  later  brought 
in  a  newspaper  clipping,  stating  that  the  directors  of  this  com- 
pany were  contemplating  the  construction  of  several  large  trans- 
Pacific  freighters.  It  is  obvious  that  such  a  question  as  this  is 
of  vital  interest,  not  only  to  the  stockholders  of  the  trans-conti- 
nental railroads,  but  also  to  every  man,  woman,  and  child  living 
in  the  northwestern  states. 


INTRINSIC    VALUES    OF    EXPERIENCE  229 

3.  But  notwithstanding  this  widely  distributed  utilita- 
rian value  of  certain  detailed  facts  and  general  principles, 
could  it  not  be  urged  that,  in  the  large,  the  utilitarian 
value  of  any  subject  of  instruction  is  a  specific  value  for 
special  occupations?  The  sailor  needs  sailor  geography 
and  sailor  mathematics,  the  importing  or  exporting  mer- 
chant needs  commercial  geography  and  commercial 
arithmetic,  the  farmer  needs  agricultural  physics,  the 
engineer  needs  mathematical  physics,  and  so  on.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  general  validity  of  this  contention. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  a  number  of  facts  and 
principles  that  every  one  may  apply  to  the  needs  of  life, 
no  matter  what  his  special  occupation.  In  practice,  a 
compromise  may  be  reached  by  making  this  latter  class  of 
facts  a  part  of  the  elementary  instruction  and  reserving 
the  first  class  for  the  secondary  and  higher  schools.  This 
has  been  the  policy  for  some  time  as  far  as  the  colleges 
and  universities  are  concerned.  It  is  now  the  tendency 
to  specialize  secondary  education  in  accordance  with  the 
needs  of  the  community.  The  commercial  high  school 
has  become  a  typical  feature  of  secondary  education  in 
the  larger  commercial  centers.  Manual-training  high 
schools  are  looking  after  another  field  of  applied  science. 
In  Wisconsin  the  county  agricultural  high  schools  are 
serving  the  interests  and  needs  of  the  farming  communi- 
ties. In  this  way  the  specific  occupations  are  being 
provided  for  and  secondary  education  is  undergoing  a 
wholesome  and  much-needed  reform. 


230  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

4.  (b)  Conventional  Values.  The  prominence  oi 
certain  items  of  the  curriculum  is  to  be  justified,  not  by 
the  utility  of  their  facts  and  principles  in  actual  applica- 
tion to  the  problems  of  life,  but  rather  by  the  condition 
that  ignorance  of  these  facts  and  principles  brands  a 
person  as  uneducated,  and  hence  serves  to  militate 
against  his  maximal  efficiency  in  society. 

The  study  of  grammar  is  perhaps  the  best  instance  of  formal 
instruction,  the  main  value  of  which  is  conventional.  A  sen- 
tence that  is  grammatically  incorrect  may  express  one's  thought, 
one's  meaning,  just  as  clearly  as  a  sentence  that  is  grammati- 
cally correct,  yet  habitual  use  of  incorrect  forms  —  disregard 
of  conventional  requirements  —  will  distract  the  attention  of 
one's  auditors  from  the  thought  to  the  form,  and  hence  militate 
against  the  maximal  efficiency  of  expression.  It  is  clear,  also, 
that  grammar  possesses  a  modicum,  at  least,  of  utilitarian  value, 
for  in  many  cases  the  incorrect  form  is  inferior  to  the  correct 
form  in  the  manner  in  which  it  conveys  meanings.  An  ungram- 
matical  sentence  is  frequently  obscure  and  equivocal,  clumsy 
and  inaccurate.  But,  generally  speaking,  the  value  of  gram- 
matically correct  expression  is  purely  conventional,  although 
none  the  less  important  and  deserving  of  attention. 

Geographical  knowledge,  too,  is  certainly  "  assumed"  as  part 
of  the  intellectual  equipment  of  every  one  who  would  claim  for 
his  thoughts  and  opinions  the  consideration  and  respect  of  the 
average  man.  One  who  does  not  know,  for  example,  that  the 
earth  is  round  will  surely  be  handicapped  in  his  dealings  with 
others ;  for  in  social  intercourse  men  and  women  generalize  on 
slight  bases,  and  the  man  who  has  proved  himself  to  be  ignorant 
upon  so  common  a  branch  of  knowledge  as  geography  will 
receive  scant  attention  upon  other  matters.  The  elementary 
school  owes  it  to  the  individual  to  furnish  him  with  those  geo- 
graphical facts  and  concepts  that  "  every  one  must  know." 


INTRINSIC    VALUES    OF    EXPERIENCE  23 1 

A  certain  conventional  value  also  attaches  to  correct  spelling, 
although  here,  too,  the  utilitarian  value  is  also  in  evidence. 
The  misspelled  word  not  only  reveals  one's  "  ignorance,"  but 
frequently  it  may  obscure  one's  meaning.  Arithmetic  may  be 
said  to  have  but  a  slight  value  from  the  conventional  stand- 
point. Literature,  on  the  other  hand,  is  extremely  important 
in  this  light  —  far  more  important  in  the  schools  from  the  con- 
ventional point  of  view,  probably,  than  from  any  other.  The 
"  classics  "  are  studied  (or,  better,  dissected)  because  they  are 
things  that  one  must  be  familiar  with.  Not  to  have  heard  of 
them,  at  least,  is  to  lack  the  first  essentials  of  culture.  This 
interpretation  of  their  value  is  natural,  but  unfortunate. 

5.  (c)  Preparatory  Values.  The  traditional  Herbar- 
tian  notion  that  ideas  assimilate  ideas  possesses  a  cer- 
tain measure  of  truth.  It  is  natural  to  expect,  therefore, 
that  facts  and  principles  may  have  a  certain  value  as 
bases  for  the  acquisition  of  other  facts  and  principles. 
This  value  may  be  termed  preparatory. 

The  preparatory  value  of  arithmetic  as  a  basis  for  the  higher 
mathematics,  and  as  a  useful  implement  in  dealing  with  natural 
science,  needs  no  especial  justification.  The  study  of  the 
mother  tongue  is  also  important  as  a  groundwork  for  the  study 
of  foreign  languages. 

The  significance  of  this  value  is,  however,  most  clearly  re- 
vealed in  the  study  of  geography.  As  a  recent  writer^  has 
said  :  "  History  is  not  intelligible  without  geography.  This 
is  obviously  true  in  the  sense  that  the  reader  of  history  must 
learn  where  the  frontiers  of  states  are,  where  battles  are  fought, 
whither  colonies  were  dispatched.  It  is  equally,  if  less  obvi- 
ously, true  that  geographical  facts  very  largely  influence  the 

^  H.  B.  George:  714*  Relations  of  Geography  and  History,  Oxford, 
IQOI.  n.  I. 


232  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

course  of  history."  The  study  of  geography  is  also  essential  ta 
a  rational  understanding  of  "  current  events."  Not  to  evaluate 
current  tendencies  with  some  degree  of  intelligence  is  certainly 
not  to  prove  one's  self  efficient  in  society.  In  this  day,  when  an 
occurrence  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe  may  immediately  and 
directly  influence  the  humblest  citizen  on  this  side,  the  ability 
to  read  newspapers  intelligently  needs  no  elaborate  argument 
for  its  defense.  And  the  ability  to  read  newspapers  intelligently 
certainly  demands  not  a  superficial,  but  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  geography,  as  the  contemporary  happenings  in  the  Orient 
abundantly  testify. 

Even  more  important  is  the  relation  of  geography  to  natural 
science.  Geography  borrows  many  of  its  facts  from  different 
fields  of  natural  science  —  from  geology,  meteorology,  astron- 
omy, botany,  zoology,  et  al.  In  the  high  school  and  college, 
each  of  the  sciences  is  treated  in  and  for  itself  as  a  pure  science, 
—  that  is,  without  explicit  reference  to  its  economic  and  human 
relations.  It  is  generally  agreed,  however,  that  the  initial  study 
of  a  science  should  be  from  its  economic,  or  human  side.  The 
child  should  be  introduced  to  facts  and  principles  in  their  rela- 
tion to  his  life,  to  his  needs.  The  law  of  apperception  demands 
this,  and  this  is  what  geography  attempts  to  do.  In  a  sense  it 
may  be  looked  upon  as  an  introduction  to  all  the  sciences  of 
nature.  It  is  here  that  the  child  must  get  that  first  large  view 
that  should  precede  all  detailed  and  abstract  study.  Educators 
are  now  coming  to  believe  that  the  curriculum  should  include 
geography,  not  only  as  a  preparation  for  the  sciences,  but  also 
as  the  culmination  of  all  scientific  study.  The  student  should 
bring  together  the  facts  and  principles  that  he  has  acquired  in 
the  detailed  study  of  the  various  sciences,  and  discover  their 
relations  to  human  hfe.  This  is  only  a  consistent  application 
of  the  general  principle  that  mind  begins  with  large  wholes, 
passes  from  these  to  detailed  parts,  and  then  back  again  to  the 
wholes  —  analysis  followed  by  synthesis,  differentiation  followed 
by  integration. 


INTRINSIC    VALUES    OF    EXPERIENCE  233 

6.  (d)  Theoretical  Values.  Items  of  knowledge  that 
have  little  or  no  significance  in  the  practical  affairs  of 
Ufe,  from  either  a  utilitarian,  a  conventional,  or  a  pre- 
paratory standpoint,  may  nevertheless  be  necessary  to 
a  system  of  knowledge.  The  importance  of  organiza- 
tion and  system  as  important  factors  in  efficient  recall 
has  been  emphasized  in  a  former  chapter.  Very  fre- 
quently, in  organizing  knowledge  into  a  coherent  whole, 
it  is  necessary  to  insert  many  facts  and  principles  that 
have  in  themselves  little  practical  worth. 

This,  as  already  suggested,  is  the  justification  of  a  very  large 
part  of  the  educational  curriculum.  It  is  hardly  too  much  to 
say  that  three  fourths  of  every  subject  of  instruction  has  abso- 
lutely no  value  when  measured  by  the  standards  already  dis- 
cussed. A  large  part  of  its  value  is  purely  theoretical,  —  that  is, 
it  contributes  to  the  coherence  of  the  various  facts  and  prin- 
ciples as  knowledge.  Its  value  cannot  be  disputed,  for  any 
attempt  to  "  cut  out  "  the  "  impractical "  parts  invariably  results 
in  the  inefficient  functioning  of  the  remainder.  Short  courses 
that  aim  to  give  only  the  essentials,  fifth-rate  colleges  and  nor- 
mal schools  that  educate  you  while  you  wait,  are  sufficiently 
damned  by  their  own  products.  The  muse  of  science  is  a  jeal- 
ous mistress.  She  demands  all,  and  if  she  fails  to  get  all,  she 
gives  nothing  in  return  for  whatever  she  may  receive. 

7.  (e)  Sentimental  Values.  Inquisitiveness  in  man  is 
an  instinct.  Like  all  instincts,  it  owes  its  existence  to 
the  forces  of  natural  selection  working  upon  fortuitous 
variations  in  nerve  structure.  It  has  been  "good"  for 
man  to  be  curious  about  his  environment,  to  study  his 
environment,  and  to  determine  the  laws  that  govern  its 


234  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

phenomena.  Primitive  man  did  not  realize,  probably, 
that  his  inordinate  curiosity  was  good  for  him.  In  his 
own  crude  way  he  investigated  things  for  the  mere  "fun 
of  it,"  —  for  the  pleasure  it  afforded  him.  Later  in  his 
development  he  came  to  find  out  that  many  of  the  facts 
that  he  discovered  and  many  of  the  laws  that  he  worked 
out  were  "good"  for  him  —  that  the  knowledge  thus 
gained  helped  him  to  solve  the  problems  of  his  hfe.  But 
this  appreciation  of  the  value  of  inquisitiveness  came 
only  after  a  long  lapse  of  time. 

The  desire  to  satisfy  curiosity  is  thus  seen  to  lie  at  the 
basis  of  knowledge.  The  child  evinces  this  desire.  His 
curiosity  is  boundless,  and  upon  this  native  instinct  the 
educator  must  build.  It  is  clear  from  our  previous  dis- 
cussion, however,  that  he  cannot  depend  upon  it  entirely. 
The  very  fact  that  it  is  an  instinct  means  that  it  runs 
its  course  in  passive  attention.  It  is  not  sustained, 
directed,  organized.  All  these  things  mean  active  atten- 
tion, mean  work.  Curiosity  soon  tires,  but  any  measur- 
able addition  to  knowledge  involves  persistent  effort. 

It  is  the  problem  of  the  educator,  then,  to  replace  this 
instinctive  curiosity  with  a  higher  mental  process.  The 
desire  to  obtain  knowledge  is  not  to  be  discouraged,  but 
it  is  to  be  held  to  a  definite  Hne  until  results  follow. 
Wherever  possible,  of  course,  the  child's  curiosity  should 
be  directed  along  hues  that  will  help  him  most  in  his 
future  adjustments.  There  are  times,  however,  when 
this  curiosity  may  be  directed  toward  ends  the  practi- 


INTRINSIC   VALUES   OF   EXPERIENCE  23^ 

cal  significance  of  which  is  not  once  apparent.  Some 
pupils,  for  example,  may  be  curious  in  certain  special 
directions.  They  may  evince  a  desire,  perhaps,  to  learn 
all  that  they  can  about  Arctic  exploration.  The  facts 
that  they  obtain  may  not  be  applicable  to  any  of  the 
problems  that  they  will  be  called  upon  to  solve,  yet  no 
sensible  teacher  would  think  for  a  moment  of  curtailing 
this  interest.  He  has  here  the  opportunity  to  replace 
instinctive  curiosity  with  a  higher  mental  attitude,  intel- 
lectual interest.  This  is  a  form  of  what  is  technically 
termed  in  psychology,  sentiment.  It  is  rather  unfortu- 
nate that  this  term  must  be  used,  for  it  popularly  con- 
notes something  shallow  and  "silly."  Psychologically, 
however,  a  sentiment  is  one  of  the  highest  forms  of  mental 
activity.^    It  is  emotion,  refined  and  ideahzed. 

The  sentiment  of  intellectual  interest  is  closely  akin 
to  other  forms  of  sentiment,  such  as  appreciation  of  art, 
music,  poetry,  and  the  drama.  None  of  these  is  in  itself 
practical,  yet  each  subserves  a  very  practical  end.  With- 
out some  form  of  pleasure,  life  would  be  impossible.  It 
is  a  pretty  fallacy  (preached  mostly  by  the  rich)  that 
one  toils  Hke  a  drudge  for  a  competency  and  then  enjoys 
one's  self.  Life,  however,  is  not  built  upon  this  plan. 
Pleasure  is  a  means  to  an  end,  not  an  end  in  itself.  Bio- 
logically it  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  bribe  to  keep  one 
alive  and  in  good  spirits  until  one's  life  work  is  accom- 
plished.    The    individual    instinctively    seeks    pleasure, 

1  Cf.  E.  B.  Titchener :  Primer  of  Psychology,  ch.  xii. 


236  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

and  if  the  higher  forms  of  pleasure  have  not  been  cul- 
tivated, he  must  fall  back  on  the  lower  pleasures,  —  the 
pleasures  of  the  senses,  the  satisfaction  of  instinctive 
desires,  the  insidious  lines  of  least  resistance. 

The  enhghtened  educator  reahzes  this  fundamental 
truth,  and  he  attempts  in  his  practice  to  develop  the 
sentiments.  This  is  done  most  consciously  in  the  field 
of  the  aesthetic  sentiments  —  the  appreciation  of  music, 
painting,  and  literature.  These  subjects  form  just  as 
legitimate  a  part  of  the  elementary  school  curriculum  as 
arithmetic  and  reading  and  writing.  But  the  teacher 
should  certainly  not  forget  the  intellectual  sentiment,  — 
the  pleasure  that  comes  from  knowing,  —  and  it  is  for 
this  reason  that  no  wise  teacher  would  think  of  curtail- 
ing the  child's  interest  in  such  a  subject  as  Arctic  ex- 
ploration. With  a  little  trouble,  he  may  lead  the  child 
to  take  delight  in  a  purely  intellectual  pursuit,  just  as  with 
a  little  trouble  he  may  lead  the  child  to  see  the  beauty 
in  a  great  picture,  or  a  classical  musical  composition,  or 
a  world  epic.^ 

The  foregoing  paragraphs  explain  the  criticism  that  was  sug- 
gested on  a  former  page  concerning  the  teaching  of  literature 
for  its  conventional  value.  The  educational  value  of  literature 
is  not  primarily  conventional,  but  rather  sentimental  and  ideal. 
The  aim  in  the  study  of  literature  should  be  to  enable  the  pupil 
to  enjoy  it,  not  to  have  him  cut  it  up  and  mutilate  it,  nor  to  have 
him  look  upon  it  as  a  medium  for  communicating  useful  infor- 

1  This  is  in  addition  to  the  function  of  art  to  inspire  the  individual  tr 
higher  ideals. 


INTRINSIC    VALUES    OF    EXPERIENCE  237 

mation  in  an  agreeable  form.  But,  as  with  everything  else  that 
is  worth  while  in  this  life,  the  appreciation  of  the  higher  forms 
of  art  is  not  a  simple  thing.  It  demands  some  degree  of  active 
attention,  some  element  of  work,  before  it  can  be  acquired.  It 
is  a  mistake  to  think  that  art  appeals  to  every  one  simply 
because  it  is  art.  There  are  thousands  of  men  and  women 
who  get  no  pleasure  out  of  the  great  pictures,  or  the  great 
poems,  or  the  great  musical  compositions.  Many  affect  enjoy- 
ment, because  they  have  a  dim  sort  of  notion  that  it  is  the 
"  proper  thing."  But  not  a  few  are  frank  enough  to  say  that 
they  see  nothing  in  art  to  "rave  over."  And  yet,  once  de- 
veloped through  a  process  of  active  attention,  the  aesthetic  and 
intellectual  sentiments  become  a  source  of  the  highest  kind  of 
pleasure. 

8.  From  what  has  been  said  it  might  be  inferred  that 
education  has  neglected  the  values  that  we  have  termed 
"theoretical"  and  "sentimental."  This  is  not  alto- 
gether true.  The  briefest  examination  of  the  curricula 
of  the  secondary  schools  and  colleges  will  serve  to  dem- 
onstrate the  importance  of  these  values  in  the  higher 
departments  of  education.  The  larger  part  of  these  cur- 
ricula is  made  up  of  subjects  that  subserve  one  or  another 
of  these  two  functions:  tending  either  to  develop  intel- 
lectual and  aesthetic  interests  or  to  make  more  compre- 
hensive and  complete  the  body  of  knowledge.  The 
science,  mathematics,  language,  and  Hterature  that  oc- 
cupy so  prominent  a  place  in  the  higher  education  can 
be  justified  only  upon  these  grounds.  Here,  indeed,  as 
we  have  intimated,  they  are,  or  have  been,  perhaps, 
too  prominent,  and  a  reaction  in  favor  of  the  utilitarian 


238  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

may  work  a  wholesome  change.  In  the  elementary 
school,  on  the  other  hand,  we  find  the  other  extreme. 
The  bulk  of  the  time  is  here  given  over  to  arithmetic  and 
language,  the  latter  including  reading,  writing,  composi- 
tion, and  grammar.  Literature  and  geography,  with  a 
modicum  of  music  and  drawing,  divide  most  of  the 
remaining  time  between  them.  Arithmetic  is  justified 
entirely  by  its  utilitarian  and  preparatory  values,  language 
by  its  utilitarian  and  conventional  values,  geography  by 
its  utihtarian,  conventional,  and  theoretical  values,  litera- 
ture mainly  by  its  conventional  value,  and  music  and 
drawing  by  their  sentimental  value.-^  Just  as  a  readjust- 
ment in  favor  of  the  more  practical  values  has  been 
important  to  the  efficiency  of  higher  education,  so  a 
readjustment  in  involving  a  more  explicit  recognition 
of  the  sentimental  values  would  seem  desirable  in  the 
elementary  schools.  This  would  not  mean  the  introduc- 
tion of  more  subjects,  but  rather  a  reform  in  methods  of 
teaching. 

1  To  those  who  are  troubled  by  the  cry,  now  so  seldom  heard,  **  Art  for 
art's  sake,"  the  following  expression  from  John  Addington  S3nnonds  may 
be  comforting :  "  I  had  composed  these  lectures  for  what  I  most  abhor, 
an  audience  of  cultivated  people.  This  is  a  paradoxical  confession.  I  am 
nothing  if  not  cultivated,  or  at  least  the  world  expects  only  culture  from 
me.  But  in  my  heart  of  hearts  I  do  not  believe  in  culture  except  as  an 
adjunct.  '  Life  is  more  than  literature,'  I  say.  So  I  cannot,  although  I 
devote  my  time  and  energy  to  culture  (even  as  a  carpenter  makes  doors 
or  a  carver  carves  edelweiss  on  walnut  wood)  regard  it  otherwise  than  in 
the  light  of  pastime,  decoration,  service."  —  Quoted  in  H.  F.  Brown's 
Life  of  John  Addington  Symonds,  speaking  of  lectures  delivered  in  1877 
on  "  Florence  and  the  Medio." 


PART   VI.     THE   TRANSMISSION   OF 
EXPERIENCE   AND    THE   TECH- 
NIQUE  OF   TEACHING 

CHAPTER  XVI 

The  Transmission  of  Experience  in  the  Concrete: 
Imitation  and  Objective  Teaching 

1.  Up  to  this  point,  the  educative  process  has  been 
treated  mainly  from  the  standpoint  of  the  individual 
who  is  to  be  educated ;  it  must  now  be  viewed  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  teacher  who  is  to  control  and  direct  this 
process.  The  remaining  chapters  will  consider  the  va- 
rious ways  in  which  the  teacher  may  lead  the  child  to 
acquire  experiences,  the  present  chapter  dealing  par- 
ticularly with  the  transmission  of  concrete  experiences 
through  imitation  and  objective  teaching. 

2.  (a)  Imitation.  It  is  instinctive  for  the  child  to 
imitate  the  processes  that  he  sees  going  on  in  the  world 
about  him.  It  seems  to  be  a  fundamental  law  ^  of  psy- 
cho-physics that  an  idea  or  a  perception  always  tends  to 
work  itself  out  in  action:  the  child's  concrete  expe- 
rience of  witnessing  a  given  process  is  applied  instinc- 
tively in  a  repetition  of  that  process.     It  has  already 

1  Often  called  the  "  law  of  dynamogenesis " ;  see  J.  M.  Baldwin : 
Menial  Development :  Methods  and  Processes,  pp.  165  S. 

339 


240  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

been  shown  ^  how  education  lays  hold  of  this  primary 
instinct  and  turns  it  into  the  acquired  interest  of  con- 
struction. But  education  also  makes  other  uses  of  imi- 
tation. Indeed,  there  are  those  ^  who  maintain  that 
imitation  is  the  fundamental  principle,  not  only  of  edu- 
cation, but  of  all  mental  development.  There  is  a  dan- 
ger here  as  elsewhere,  however,  of  taking  an  extreme 
position  in  magnifying  a  given  factor,  if  not  beyond  its 
theoretical  significance,  at  least  far  beyond  its  practical 
significance.  And,  after  all,  education  is  not  so  much 
concerned  with  the  development  of  imitation.  Imitation 
is  an  instinct  and  needs  either  utilization,  transformation, 
or  elimination  —  not  development. 

Probably  the  most  important  truth  for  the  teacher  to 
realize  in  connection  with  imitation  is  this :  the  child 
imitates  that  which  he  admires.  And  the  practical  appU- 
cation  of  this  truth  involves,  not  only  the  provision  of 
good  models  for  imitation,  but  also,  and  more  funda- 
mentally, the  leading  of  the  child  to  admire  and  emulate 
these  models.  The  first  point  has  been  adequately  em- 
phasized and  even  overemphasized  by  educators  during 
the  past  decade.  The  latter  point  has  been  very  sadly 
neglected. 

Thus  in  impressing  correct  forms  of  speech,  it  is  not  sufficient 
to  provide  good  models  of  speech.    In  addition  it  must  be 

*  Cf.  ch.  vi,  above. 

*  Baldwin,  op.  cit.,  chs.  ix-xn;  see  also  an  admirable  critique  of  Bald* 
win's  theory  in  King,  op.  ciL^  ch.  x. 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE    TEACHING  24I 

assured  that  bad  models  do  not  appeal  the  more  strongly  to  the 
child.  Many  children  hear  good  language  in  the  home  and  in 
the  schoolroom,  but  they  hear  crude  language  on  the  street  and 
on  the  playground.  More  than  this,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the 
crude  forms  appeal  as  a  rule  the  more  strongly  to  the  child. 
There  is  not  a  real  boy  but  strenuously  abjures  what  he  con- 
siders the  niceties  of  personal  bearing  and  speech  in  favor  of 
the  swaggering  air,  the  crude  phrases,  and  the  coarse  jests  of 
his  boyish  heroes.  The  uncultured  strata  of  society  stand  for 
arrested  development  and  so  approximate  the  plane  of  child- 
hood. It  is  natural  that  children  should  be  attracted  more 
strongly  to  representatives  of  these  strata  than  to  the  represen- 
tatives of  culture  and  learning,  with  whom  they  have  no  com- 
mon bond. 

Nor  would  the  sane  educator  have  it  otherwise, — for  the 
time.  There  is  a  period  of  childhood  when  the  prim  niceties 
are  distinctly  out  of  place  and  when  the  little  prig  who  prac- 
tices them  is  justly  frowned  upon  as  precocious  and  unnatural. 
But  this  does  not  mean  that  education  is  to  neglect  the  crudities 
of  speech  and  manner,  or  to  permit  them  to  persist.  Slowly 
but  surely  the  child  must  be  led  to  admire  and  emulate  the 
higher  forms  of  life,  and  even  before  this  point  is  reached,  edu- 
cation can  see  to  it  that  the  cruder  models  are  at  least  clean 
and  wholesome  rather  than  base  and  degrading. 

3.  Imitation  and  Habit  Building.  Imitation  is  an  im- 
portant factor  in  the  initial  stages  of  habit  forming.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  the  fundamental  principle  of 
habit  forming  is  focalization  and  drill  in  attention.  It 
is  only  after  a  long  period  of  practice  that  the  stimulus 
"sets  off"  the  reaction  automatically.  For  a  long  time, 
the  stimulus  must  be  met  with  a  concrete  idea  of  the 
appropriate  movement,  —  a  process    that    involves    the 


242  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

essential  conditions  of  the  practical  judgment.  In  the 
development  of  a  typical  motor  automatism,  such  as 
walking  or  speech,  the  first  incentive  will  probably  be 
furnished  by  imitation.  The  child  notices  these  pro- 
cesses going  on  in  the  world  about  him  and  makes  an 
effort  to  repeat  them.  As  King  ^  says:  "He  gets  more 
or  less  vivid  images  of  the  activity  of  other  children  or 
of  adults.  These  images,  by  the  very  fact  that  they  have 
been  selected  out  of  an  infinite  complex  of  images, 
indicate  their  affinity  to  certain  impulses  to  action  on 
the  part  of  the  child  that  are  struggling  for  expression." 
That  is,  the  process  that  he  sees  is  coincident  with  some 
impulse  that  he  feels  for  similar  movement.  Imitation 
gives  him  the  cue,  as  it  were.  It  selects  impulses  at  the 
appropriate  moment  and  turns  them  into  social  channels. 
To  the  extent  that  the  sight  of  the  process  stimulates 
these  impulses  into  action,  imitation  may  be  looked  upon 
as  an  important  practical  judgment  initiating  habit. 

But  in  the  further  development  of  habit,  imitation 
probably  plays  a  very  minor  part.  The  adjustment  once 
made  with  a  fair  degree  of  success,  further  details  are 
improved  by  a  recall  of  the  experiences  of  the  first  and 
subsequent  movements  rather  than  by  a  recall  of  the 
process  that  the  child  has  witnessed  in  another  person. 
The  process  of  habit  forming,  once  started  by  imitation, 
goes  on  by  what  may  be  called  the  "method  of  trial 
and  error."     Each  successful  effort  forms  a  new  expe- 

^  King,  op.  cit.,  p.  121. 


IMITATION   AND    OBJECTIVE   TEACHING  243 

rience  that  can  be  revived  and  applied  concretely  to  the 
next  trial.  Each  unsuccessful  effort  also  forms  an  expe- 
rience which,  when  revived  on  a  future  occasion,  serves 
to  inhibit  the  movements  that  before  proved  unsatis- 
factory. 

All  school  activities  that  we  group  under  the  head  of  manual 
training  (including  writing,  drawing,  sloyd,  etc.)  and  moral 
training  (cleanliness,  industry,  silence,  etc.)  are  important  from 
this  point  of  view.  Here  the  aim  is  to  train  the  muscles  to  cer- 
tain specific  adjustments,  and  the  only  way  in  which  this  can 
be  done  is  by  imitation,  trial  and  error,  and  persistent  practice. 
The  task  of  the  teacher  is  to  provide  a  good  model  in  the  first 
place,  and  then  to  keep  the  child  constantly  returning  to  the 
process,  frequently  comparing  the  results  of  his  work  with  the 
model,  until  proficiency  results. 

4.  Imitation  and  Apperception.  The  fact  that  the 
child  imitates  that  which  he  admires  is  only  a  concrete 
expression  of  the  principle  of  apperception.  Imitation 
depends  first  upon  focalization,  and  a  process  is  imitated 
the  more  readily  if  it  is  seen  to  have  a  distinct  and  vital 
relation  to  the  needs  of  life.  Certainly  these  needs  may 
not  always  be  economic  needs.  In  very  early  childhood, 
processes  are  imitated  with  great  pains,  not  because 
their  purpose  is  perceived,  but  because  they  coincide,  as 
King  says,  with  an  inherent  impulse.^  Here  the  needs 
that  operate  to  select  "copies"  are  primitive  and  innate, 

*  The  writer  has  observed  a  two-year-old  girl  carefully  wipe  certair 
chairs  that  had  just  been  dusted,  but  scrupulously  avoid  touching  thos< 
that  her  mother's  duster  had  not  yet  reached. 


244  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

But  education,  as  has  been  pointed  out,  must  get  the 
child  as  rapidly  as  possible  beyond  this  blind  and  pur- 
poseless stage  to  a  plane  where  the  need?  will  be  of  a 
higher  order.^  Imitation  still  operates  here,  but  in  the 
form  of  constructive  interest  rather  than  in  the  form  of 
primitive  imitation.  In  other  words,  the  model  must  be 
copied  with  a  purpose,  and  the  more  vital  the  purpose, 
the  greater  will  be  the  motive  for  copying  the  model 
faithfully. 

This  is  clearly  seen  in  the  current  methods  of  teaching 
drawing.  Objects  that  possess  intrinsic  interest  to  the 
child  have  almost  entirely  replaced  the  "type  forms" 
once  so  generally  used.  True,  there  is  still  a  place  for 
the  type  form,  but  not  until  the  pupil  can  see  that  its  use 
will  subserve  a  distinct  end.  This  point  will  obviously 
not  be  reached  until  he  can  grasp  a  rather  involved 
mediation  of  means  to  ends,  —  in  short,  until  he  has 
attained  the  plane  of  conceptual  judgment. 

Similarly,  in  manual  training,  the  formal  exercises, 
such  as  whittling  to  a  straight  line,  planing  a  board  to  a 
smooth  surface,  constructing  typical  joints,  etc.,  without 
having  in  view  the  construction  of  some  definite  and 
useful  object,  are  justly  giving  place  to  a  more  rational 
treatment  which  assumes  that  the  child  will  learn  best 
how  to  make  these  adjustments  if  he  has  in  mind  some- 
thing that  he  wishes  to  make  and  then  sets  about  to  make 
it.    His  product  will  be  crude  enough  at  first,  but  it  will 

^  Cf.  ch.  vi,  above. 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE   TEACHING  245 

supply  a  motive  for  painstaking  practice  that  will  ulti- 
mately lead  to  good  results.  Here  again  the  formal 
exercises  have  a  place  in  the  later  stages  of  instruction 
when  the  pupil  can  perceive  something  of  their  value. 
The  use  of  models  in  written  composition  is  subject 
to  the  same  conditions.  One  reason  for  the  paucity  of 
results  in  this  field  of  education  is  the  lack  of  a  vital 
motive.  Merely  to  write  a  letter  or  a  composition  for 
the  sake  of  writing  is  not  a  task  for  the  average  adult 
to  enthuse  over,  much  less  the  average  child.  President 
Hall  has  said  that  no  written  work  should  be  undertaken 
in  the  schools  the  need  for  which  does  not  originate  in 
the  child  himself.  This  is  profoundly  true,  but  the 
practical  question  arises.  How  can  this  need  be  sup- 
plied? This  question  is  so  important  in  the  work  of 
the  elementary  school  that  space  may  profitably  be 
given  to  a  few  suggestions  that  have  proved  valuable 
in  the  writer's  experience. 

(a)  The  narrative  form  of  composition  seems  to  afford  a  more 
natural  avenue  of  expression  in  children  than  the  descriptive  or 
expository  forms.  The  writer  has  noticed  that  the  majority 
of  children  will  respond  enthusiastically  to  the  suggestion  of  an 
imaginative  story.  Here  the  need  is  perhaps  furnished  by  the 
instinctive  tendency  to  "day-dream."^ 

{l>)  The  construction  of  little  dramas  that  the  children  are 
later  to  enact  furnishes  a  very  powerful  motive  for  painstaking 

^  Cf.  Theodate  L.  Smith,  in  American  Journal  of  Psychology,  1904, 
vol.  XV,  pp.  465  ff. ;  also,  S.  W.  Eaton :  "  Children's  Stories,"  in  Pedagogicax 
Seminary,  1895,  vol.  iii,  pp.  334,  338. 


246  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

work  in  composition.  This  device  is  employed  rather  generally 
at  the  present  time,  although  the  tendency  to  utilize  "  ready- 
made  "  dramatizations  frequently  eliminates  its  most  important 
virtue.  Needless  to  say,  the  drama  that  is  worked  up  by  a 
class  of  twelve-year-olds  will  be  a  very  crude  affair,  but  it  is  in 
the  recognition  of  its  crudities  through  later  comparison  with 
better  models  that  an  important  motive  for  improvement  is 
secured. 

(c)  The  "  lantern  lesson,"  which  is  sometimes  employed  in 
the  teaching  of  geography,  should  certainly  be  noted  in  this 
connection.  In  some  of  the  larger  cities,  each  school  is  sup- 
plied with  a  small  stereopticon,  and  sets  of  slides  illustrative  of 
geographical  topics  are  kept  at  the  central  office.  The  teacher 
who  wishes  to  give  a  lantern  lesson  consults  the  catalogue  of 
slides  to  find  out  what  topics  are  represented  by  the  pictures. 
Each  child  is  then  assigned  one  of  the  topics  and  works  up  a 
two  or  three  minute  talk  upon  it,  consulting  all  available  authori- 
ties and  sources  in  his  search  for  materials.  At  the  period 
assigned  for  the  lesson,  he  is  responsible  for  presenting  his 
topic  clearly,  concisely,  and  entertainingly.  The  value  of  this 
exercise  from  the  standpoint  of  language  training  as  well  as 
from  the  standpoint  of  geography  is  plainly  apparent.  In 
schools  that  lack  the  advantages  of  a  stereopticon,  the  same 
principle  can  be  effectively  applied  in  picture  lessons  of  the 
usual  type.  With  the  wealth  of  illustrative  materials  so  easily 
culled  from  the  magazines  or  so  cheaply  purchased  from 
dealers,  the  teacher  could  easily  keep  on  hand  a  complete 
stock  of  pictures  adapted  to  all  the  important  chapters  of 
geography.  These  would  best  be  mounted  on  large  cards 
of  uniform  size  and  filed  away  in  card-catalogue  fashion.  Need- 
less to  say,  such  a  device  will  miss  much  of  its  virtue  if  used  too 
frequently. 

(d)  For  letter  writing,  a  very  simple  device  is  to  arrange 
with  another  school  for  a  correspondence  club.  Here  the 
spirit  or  instinct  of  emulation  is  strongly  appealed  to. 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE    TEACHING  24J 

(e)  Finally,  in  the  upper  grades  and  in  the  high  school 
the  school  paper  will  furnish  a  motive  for  careful  literary 
construction. 

If  the  pupil  has  a  motive  for  expression,  the  employ- 
ment of  models  for  helpful  imitation  in  matters  of  form 
will  be  simple  enough.  The  danger  of  plagiarism,  while 
not  serious,  is  certainly  to  be  counteracted.  To  this 
end,  it  is  probably  well  that  the  pupil  should  do  his  best 
without  the  model  at  first,  and  then  compare  his  own 
crude  results  with  the  better  form. 

5.  To  summarize:  Imitation  is  a  primitive  instinct 
which,  in  early  childhood,  operates  without  consciousness 
of  purpose  in  the  repetition  of  adjustments  noticed  in 
others.  The  constructive  imitation  of  later  childhood 
operates  with  consciousness  of  purpose  to  make  more 
nearly  perfect  an  adjustment,  especially  when  the  need 
of  perfection  is  apparent  to  the  child.  Both  the  primi- 
tive and  the  acquired  forms  of  imitation  are  valuable  in 
initiating  habits. 

6.  {h)  Objective  Teaching.  This  is  exemplified  in 
the  concrete  study  of  local  geography,  in  school  excur- 
sions to  stores,  factories,  transportation  depots,  docks, 
etc.,  in  the  educational  use  of  museum  materials,  and  in 
laboratory  and  "demonstration"  exercises.  Its  aim  is 
primarily  to  give  the  pupil  rich,  vivid  mental  "pictures" 
of  concrete  reahties.  Its  virtue  lies  in  the  fact  that  it 
involves  an  acquaintance  with  objects  through  several 
sense  channels  —  through  sight,  hearing,  pressure,  strain^ 


248  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

and  perhaps  even  taste  and  smell.  For  the  purpose  o^ 
impressing  vivid  and  enduring  experiences,  it  is,  as  a 
rule,  superior  to  instruction  through  pictures  and  models. 
7.  The  fundamental  principle  that  conditions  the  suc- 
cess of  objective  teaching  is  a  corollary  of  the  law  of 
apperception.  One  who  visits  a  museum  or  makes  a 
trip  into  the  country  acquires  educative  experiences  in 
direct  proportion  (i)  to  the  preparation  that  he  has  made 
in  the  way  of  preliminary  study,  and  (2)  to  the  effort 
and  attention  that  he  puts  into  his  observations.  The 
average  museum  visitor  gets  very  little  from  his  casual 
inspection  of  specimens,  because  he  brings  to  this  inspec- 
tion nothing  but  ignorance  and  idle  curiosity.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  hordes  of  people  who  wander  from  build- 
ing to  building  at  the  great  industrial  expositions,  sub- 
jecting themselves  to  thousands  of  different  stimuH,  of 
which  even  the  few  that  reach  the  threshold  of  conscious- 
ness fail  to  make  an  abiding  impression;  and  when, 
after  conscientiously  examining  their  daily  allotment  of 
those  exhibits  that  are  reputed  to  be  worth  seeing, 
they  betake  themselves  to  the  Midway  or  the  Pike,  they 
heave  a  sigh  of  relief  to  think  that  the  duty  has  been  per- 
formed and  that  a  little  real  enjoyment  has  thereby  been 
earned.  Those  who  gain  anything  worth  while  from  the 
great  World's  Fairs  or  from  minor  exhibitions  are  those 
who  are  deeply  interested  in  some  one  particular  field  and 
who  limit  themselves  to  the  exhibits  that  illustrate  this 
field.    The  farmers  at  the  county  fair  study  and  com- 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE    TEACHING  249 

pare  different  strains  of  stock  and  different  specimens 
of  products.  They  are  able  to  bring  to  what  they  see 
a  well-organized  complex  of  specific  apperceptive  systems. 
Demonstrations  in  chemistry  and  physics  would  prob- 
ably hold  the  attention  of  young  children,  but  they  would 
be  of  httle  educative  value  unless  the  observers  had  had 
some  previous  training  or  instruction  in  these  sciences. 
The  ceaseless  activity  of  the  great  freight  depots  is  in- 
teresting enough  to  the  casual  on-looker  merely  from  the 
fact  that  life  and  movement  naturally  solicit  passive 
attention ;  but  he  who  is  to  educate  himself  in  any  ap- 
preciable measure  from  such  experiences  must  first  get 
beyond  this  primitive  state  of  mind. 

It  seems  clear,  then,  that  objective  teaching  will  miss 
its  purpose  if  it  permits  itself  to  be  deceived  by  the  visi- 
ble signs  of  attention  and  interest.  Here,  as  elsewhere, 
effective  acquisition  is  directly  proportional  to  the  degree 
of  effort  involved.  It  is  clear,  too,  that  objective  teach- 
ing should  always  be  preceded  by  a  preUminary  exercise 
which  aims  to  make  expUcit  the  apperceptive  systems 
that  are  to  be  utiUzed  in  interpreting  the  new  impressions. 

8.  The  School  Excursion  as  a  Type  of  Objective  Teach- 
ing. The  school  excursion  is  extensively  used  in  the 
study  of  home  geography,  sometimes  with  excellent  re- 
sults. In  some  communities,  public  sentiment  is  some- 
what against  the  excursion,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
where  this  useful  educational  device  is  not  employed,  the 
fault  is  generally  with  the  teacher  and  not  with  the  par- 


250  THE  EDUCATIVE  PR0CE3S 

ents.  It  is  very  much  easier  to  study  geography  in  th« 
class  room  than  it  is  to  trudge  over  fields  and  hills  with 
full  responsibility  for  keeping  thirty  or  forty  active  chil- 
dren out  of  mischief.  But  the  educational  possibiUties 
of  the  excursion  are  so  numerous  that  the  attendant  diffi- 
culties should  not  be  permitted  to  stand  in  its  way. 

Four  general  rules  may  be  laid  down  for  the  success- 
ful conduct  of  the  school  excursion:  (i)  It  must  have  a 
definite  end  in  view;  there  must  be  something  in  par- 
ticular to  be  studied  —  the  course  of  a  river,  the  formation 
of  a  talus  slope,  the  action  of  weathering  upon  rocks,  the 
work  of  a  creamery  or  brickyard.  (2)  It  must  not  at- 
tempt too  much;  a  single  land  feature  or  a  single  local 
industry  will  be  enough  for  one  excursion.  (3)  It  must 
be  held  within  the  limits  of  its  original  purpose;  it  is 
a  school  exercise  and  not  a  picnic.  (4)  It  must  be 
succeeded  as  early  as  possible  by  a  full  and  complete 
discussion  leading  to  a  series  of  definite  propositions 
summing  up  the  net  results. 

The  following  excellent  suggestions  relative  to  the  school 
excursion  are  cited  from  the  Indiana  State  Manual:^  — 

"  (i)  Invariably  a  teacher  should  make  the  visit  herself  and 
find  out  all  the  conditions  to  be  met  before  taking  a  class. 

"  (2)  She  should  plan  the  excursion  with  more  care  than  any 
ordinary  recitation,  foreseeing  exactly  what  facts  she  desires  her 
pupils  to  note,  and  in  what  order. 

"  (3)  Before  starting  out  with  her  pupils  she  should  acquaint 
them,  as  a  rule,  with  the  main  questions  that  are  to  be  answered 

1  CompUed  by  Fassett  A.  Cotton,  Indianapolis,  1904. 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE   TEACHING  25I 

by  the  excursion.  For  instance,  if  a  dairy  is  to  be  visited,  some 
of  the  questions  in  their  minds  might  be :  How  are  the  cows 
housed?  What  is  their  feed  ?  How  is  the  milk  cooled?  How 
is  it  bottled  ?  What  precautions  are  taken  for  cleanliness  ?  How 
is  the  milk  brought  to  customers?  Or,  if  a  valley  is  to  be  vis- 
ited, the  pupils  should  be  asked  to  observe  trench  form,  bluffs, 
streams,  channels,  banks,  moving  sediment,  and  flood  plane, 
with  the  purpose  of  bringing  out  the  idea  of  how  the  stream 
works  and  the  results  of  its  work.  Only  the  leading  questions 
need  be  held  in  mind  on  their  way,  and  no  attempt  on  the  part 
of  the  teacher  should  be  made  to  answer  these  questions  before- 
hand. 

"  (4)  Some  of  the  parents  in  the  community  should  be  in- 
vited to  assist  the  teacher  in  conducting  the  children.  They 
will  get  new  light  as  to  a  teacher's  difficulties,  and  as  to  the 
value  of  the  excursions.  An  excursion  affords  an  opportunity 
for  one  of  the  best  kinds  of  parents'  meetings. 

"(5)  Now  and  then  during  the  observations  the  children 
should  be  halted,  brought  into  a  group,  and  led  to  consider 
certain  points  in  regular  class-room  fashion,  even  though  they 
be  standing  on  the  side  of  the  street  or  along  an  open  ditch. 
On  the  return  of  the  excursion,  the  points  noted  should  be 
reviewed  and  connected. 

"  The  excursions  should  be  taken,  at  least  partly,  and  often 
wholly,  during  regular  school  hours,  this  being  an  essential  part 
of  the  programme." 

9.  Museums.  The  visiting  of  museums  in  communi- 
ties where  such  institutions  are  available  should  form 
an  important  avenue  for  objective  teaching.  Here, 
a^ain,  the  necessity  of  having  a  definite  object  in  view 
is  paramount.  Museums  generally  contain  such  a 
wealth  of  material  that  a  general  inspection  is  largely 


252  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

without  profit.  As  a  rule,  perhaps,  the  museum  should 
be  used  to  illustrate  objects  and  processes  with  which 
the  children  are  already  somewhat  famihar  through  the 
ordinary  work  of  the  schoolroom.  A  class  studying 
South  America  may  profitably  spend  an  afternoon  in 
a  museum  which  contains  specimens  of  South  American 
fauna  and  flora,  restricting  themselves  entirely  to  this 
division  and  resisting  the  numerous  temptations  to  wan- 
der off  into  other  alcoves.  The  zoological  gardens  of 
the  larger  cities  and  the  unique  Shaw  Botanic  Gardens 
of  St.  Louis  are  really  museums,  and  their  pedagogical 
utihty  depends  on  the  principles  just  noted. 

The  school  museum  certainly  deserves  mention  in  this 
connection.  This  adjunct  is,  perhaps,  as  important  to 
the  elementary  school  as  is  the  school  library,  particularly 
in  those  sections  where  well-equipped  general  museums 
are  not  available.  Through  an  exchange  of  products 
between  widely  separated  communities,  valuable  collec- 
tions may  be  made  at  a  merely  nominal  cost.  Such 
collections  might  well  contain  specimens  of  minerals,  of 
different  kinds  of  soils,  of  woods  used  in  building  and 
cabinet  making,  of  textile  and  other  manufactured  prod- 
ucts together  with  the  raw  materials  from  which  they  are 
made,  and  as  complete  a  representation  as  possible  of 
these  materials  at  different  stages  of  manufacture.  To 
this  equipment  could  be  added  stuffed  animals,  pressed 
plants,  cabinets  of  insects,  specimens  preserved  in  alcohol, 
and  the  like,  for  illustrating  chapters  in  natural  history. 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE   TEACHING  253 

It  is  perhaps  well  to  keep  such  specimens  in  places  where 
the  pupils  will  not  be  likely  to  become  familiar  with 
them  until  they  are  to  be  used  in  class  exercises.  Other- 
wise the  element  of  novelty,  which  is  extremely  impor- 
tant in  all  forms  of  objective  teaching,  is  apt  to  be  lost. 

10.  The  School  Garden.  This  important  medium  of 
objective  teaching  has  been  so  thoroughly  exploited  in 
the  past  few  years  that  Httle  need  be  said  concerning  it 
in  this  place.  Like  all  forms  of  "manual  training,"  it 
involves  the  factor  of  actual  motor  adjustment,  so  pro- 
foundly significant  to  adequate  apperception.  The  close 
contact  into  which  the  pupil  is  brought  with  the  processes 
of  plant  growth  and  cultivation  will  furnish  him  with  a 
concrete  idea  of  the  basal  industry  of  husbandry  that 
he  would  fail  to  get  from  the  most  vivid  descriptions  or 
pictorial  representations.  From  the  standpoint  of  the 
city  child,  the  "school  garden"  doctrine  is  one  of  the 
most  promising  advances  that  have  been  made  in  pres- 
ent-day education. 

11.  The  Laboratory.  Laboratory  methods  vary  so 
much  with  different  subjects  of  instruction  that  it  is 
quite  out  of  the  question  for  any  one  writer  adequately 
to  treat  of  them.  In  general,  the  laboratory  has  two 
quite  distinct  functions:  (a)  it  serves  the  purpose  of 
illustration  and  demonstration  by  bringing  the  pupil  into 
a  direct,  first-hand  acquaintance  with  the  objects  and 
processes  with  which  he  has  already  been  made  some- 
what familiar  through  formal  instruction;    and  {b)    it 


254  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

provides  situations  and  environments  from  which  the 
more  advanced  student  may  draw  conclusions  and  work 
out  for  himself  the  laws  and  principles  that  govern  the 
world  of  matter.  It  is  the  former  function  that  should 
be  treated  under  the  head  of  objective  teaching,  and  its 
use  in  this  connection  is  subject  to  the  general  conditions 
noted  above.  The  principles  governing  the  latter  func- 
tion will  be  more  thoroughly  discussed  in  Chapter  XIX. 
12.  The  Limitations  0}  Objective  Teaching.  The  fact 
that  attention  is  attracted  and  held  more  successfully  by 
the  objective  and  moving  than  by  the  subjective  and 
static  not  infrequently  leads  to  an  overemphasis  of  ob- 
jective teaching.  The  devices  that  have  just  been  noted 
have  an  important  place  in  education,  and  especially  in 
the  preadolescent  stages,  where  one  of  the  leading  aims 
is  to  impress  vivid,  concrete  images.  But  the  matter  can 
be  easily  overdone,  even  here.  The  mind  that  has 
learned  to  lean  helplessly  upon  the  objective  factor  will 
always  be  weak  and  flaccid  unless  a  strenuous  effort  is 
made  to  induce  conceptual  and  subjective  processes. 
Concrete  images  must  always  be  looked  upon  as  noth- 
ing more  than  necessary  but  totally  subordinate  means 
to  a  much  higher  end.  Teachers  have  been  so  frequently 
urged  to  avoid  the  abstract  that  they  themselves  are 
almost  afraid  to  think  in  abstract  terms:  witness  the 
flabby  "sense"  psychology  and  the  diluted  milk-and- 
water  "treatises"  that  constitute  the  bulk  of  our  edu- 
cational literature  1      Education  will  never  become  the 


IMITATION    AND    OBJECTIVE    TEACHING  2$tf 

dignified  profession  that  it  hopes  to  be  until  the  rank 
and  file  assume  a  different  attitude  toward  the  principles 
of  their  calling. 

Grant  Allen,  in  a  posthumous  essay  on  Spencer,  char- 
acterized this  master  as  one  who  thought  and  talked  in 
principles  rather  than  personalities.  Huxley  made  the 
same  remark  concerning  Darwin.  Throughout  the  his- 
tory of  the  race,  intellectual  progress  has  ever  been  away 
from  the  sensuous  and  concrete,  and  toward  the  ideal  and 
abstract.  The  education  of  the  child  must  follow  the 
same  line.  The  pretty  pedagogical  dogma  that  education 
should  "begin  in  the  concrete,  continue  in  the  concrete, 
and  end  in  the  concrete"  is  probably,  next  to  "educa- 
tion through  play,"  the  most  pernicious  proposition  for 
which  the  new  Schoolcraft  must  render  an  accounting. 


CHAPTER  XVn 

The  Transmission   of   Condensed   Experiences: 
Development  and  Instruction 

I.  In  a  former  chapter,  the  pedagogy  of  the  concept 
was  briefly  treated.  It  was  there  pointed  out  that,  in 
every  case,  concepts  must  be  built  up  on  a  basis  of 
concrete  experience,  but  that,  once  these  concepts  are 
adequately  developed,  they  may  be  manipulated  in  judg- 
ment with  little  or  no  expKcit  reference  to  the  experi- 
ences on  which  they  rest.  Judgments  thus  formed  may 
be  applied  to  the  solution  of  concrete  situations,  hence 
it  is  an  important  duty  of  education  to  provide  the  indi- 
vidual with  a  supply  of  such  judgments  representing  the 
most  usable  portion  of  experiences  that  generations  have 
found  to  be  serviceable. 

There  are  two  distinct  methods  of  providing  these 
judgments:  (i)  they  may  be  given  to  the  individual  pre- 
formed ;  or  (2)  the  individual  may  be  placed  under  con- 
ditions that  will  impel  him  to  form  them  for  himself. 
The  former  procedure  may  be  termed  the  indirect  method, 
or  the  method  0}  instruction;  the  latter,  the  direct  method, 
or  the  method  of  development :  in  the  one  the  judgments 
are  given  ready-made,  in  the  other  the  pupil  is  led  to 

256 


DEVELOPMENT    AND    INSTRUCTION  257 

form  judgments  de  novo  —  is  led,  in  other  words,  to 
"reason." 

2.  It  is  clear  that  progress  is  rendered  possible  by  the 
fact  that  we  may  assimilate  and  turn  to  our  own  use 
certain  of  the  judgments  that  have  been  worked  out  by 
our  predecessors.  In  this  way  we  profit,  not  only  by  our 
own  experience,  but  also  by  the  experiences  of  others.  If 
this  were  not  the  case,  each  would  have  to  repeat,  step 
by  step,  the  monotonous  history  of  those  who  had  pre- 
ceded him,  subject  to  the  same  sources  of  error  and  mak- 
ing all  the  mistakes  and  blunders  that  they  had  made. 
But  through  the  organization  of  experiences  in  judg- 
ment form,  the  mistakes  are  gradually  eUminated.  Each 
generation  inherits  from  its  predecessors  innumerable 
systems  of  judgments  which  represent  years,  perhaps 
centuries,  of  selection  and  elimination.  It  is  hardly  too 
much  to  say  that,  for  every  fact  and  principle  that  sur- 
vives, a  thousand  false  judgments  and  erroneous  prin- 
ciples have  been  eliminated.  The  former  constitute  our 
intellectual  heritage;   the  latter  have  been  forgotten. 

Education  must  raise  the  child  to  the  intellectual  level 
of  the  race  by  endowing  him  with  this  intellectual  heri- 
tage. This  cannot  be  done  altogether  by  leading  him 
to  repeat  the  history  of  the  race  and  to  organize  for  him- 
self the  experiences  thus  gained.  It  remains,  therefore, 
for  the  educator  to  adapt  his  methods  to  existing  condi- 
tions. He  must  do  his  best  in  the  brief  period  during 
which  the  child  is  at  his  disposal.     The  judgments  that 


258  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

one  makes  for  one's  self  certainly  function  more  efficiently 
than  the  judgments  that  one  borrows  from  others.  It 
is  equally  true,  however,  that,  if  the  child  should  form 
all  judgments  for  himself,  he  would  be  severely  handi- 
capped as  a  member  of  society.-^  It  is  necessary,  then, 
to  effect  a  compromise  between  the  two  horns  of  this 
dilemma — to  determine  under  what  conditions  the  direct 
method  of  discovery  is  to  be  employed  and  under  what 
conditions  we  must  place  our  chief  dependence  upon  the 
indirect  method  of  instruction.  This  is  the  practical 
question  that  confronts  the  teacher  at  every  turn:  how 
much  of  this  material  shall  I  have  my  pupils  work  out 
for  themselves,  and  how  much  shall  I  tell  them? 

3.  An  answer  to  this  question  will  inevitably  savor  not 
a  little  of  dogmatism,  for  as  yet  scientific  investigation 
has  not  touched  this  important  field.  Consequently, 
dependence  must  be  placed  in  the  main  upon  that  type  of 
experience  that  we  have  termed  "common  sense." 

First  with  regard  to  ]acts,  —  judgments  representing 
reaction  to  concrete  situations,  —  it  is  obvious  that  there 
are  many  such  judgments  that  the  individual  will  be 

1  Rousseau  proposed  to  carry  this  theory  to  the  extreme  in  the  educa- 
tion of  Emile.  "  Let  him  not  learn  science,"  he  says;  "  let  him  invent  it" 
(^Emile,  iii,  173).  "Emile  will  never  know  optics.  He  will  never  have 
dissected  insects :  he  will  not  have  counted  the  spots  on  the  sun :  he  will 
know  neither  microscopes  nor  telescopes.  Your  learned  pupils  will  deride 
him.  They  will  not  be  far  wrong;  because,  before  using  these  instru- 
ments, I  mean  that  he  shall  invent  them,  and  you  are  right  in  believing 
that  this  will  not  be  early"  (^Entile,  iii,  223).  —  Cited  by  J.  P.  Monroe; 
The  Educational  Ideal,  Boston,  1896,  p.  166. 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    INSTRUCTION  259 

unable  to  obtain  through  his  own  experience.  All  the 
facts  of  history  and  most  of  the  facts  of  geography  belong 
to  this  class;  the  pupil  has  nothing  for  it  but  to  take 
them  on  faith.  There  are  also  many  facts  that  the 
pupil  might  possibly  verify  by  actual  experience,  but 
which  may  just  as  effectively  and  much  more  economi- 
cally be  taken  on  the  testimony  of  others. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  facts  that  the  pupil 
will  do  well  to  discover  for  himself.  In  the  cases  cited 
in  Chapter  X,  for  example,  it  is  far  better  for  the  pupil 
to  see  for  himself  the  conditions  under  which  seeds  ger- 
minate than  to  have  the  facts  told  by  some  one  who  has 
made  the  observation  for  him.  It  is  "far  better"  for 
two  reasons:  in  the  first  place,  the  situation  will  make 
a  deeper  impression  upon  him  and  become  more  amen- 
able to  efficient  recall;  in  the  second  place,  he  may, 
perhaps,  form  upon  the  basis  of  this  process  some  valu- 
able ideals  as  to  observation  and  experiment  in  general. 

Such  instances  are  not,  however,  numerous  in  the 
work  of  the  elementary  school,  and,  in  general,  it  may 
be  concluded  that  the  realm  of  individual  facts  is  a  legiti- 
mate field  of  the  indirect  method.  Books  of  description 
and  narration,  oral  presentations,  pictures,  diagrams,  and 
models  will  all  be  levied  upon  under  the  guidance  of 
principles  to  be  developed  in  the  following  chapter.  This, 
of  course,  does  not  mean  that  the  direct  method  has  no 
place  in  this  field.  It  simply  means  that  the  indirect 
method  finds  its  chief  apphcation  here. 


260  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

4.  In  the  case  of  principles  based  upon  facts,  however, 
the  pupil  is  not  necessarily  limited  to  the  "borrowing" 
method.  Having  particular  judgments  —  the  data  —  in 
his  possession,  he  may  work  these  up  into  generaUza- 
tions  or  principles,  and  having  the  generahzations  in  his 
possession,  he  may  work  back  into  particulars.  That 
is,  he  can  manipulate  judgments  by  processes  of  logical 
reasoning,  and  so  bring  them  into  relation  with  one  an- 
other, weave  them  together  by  thought  connections,  and 
synthetize  them  into  coherent  systems.  In  what  manner 
this  contributes  to  their  revival  value  has  already  been 
noted. 

The  problem,  then,  is  reduced  to  this :  Shall  the  teacher 
ever  do  the  reasoning  for  the  pupil?  If  so,  to  what 
extent?  It  is  safe  to  lay  down  the  general  rule  that  the 
right  0}  generalization  from  particulars  and  the  right  of 
inference  from  generalizations  belong  to  the  pupil.  This 
conclusion  is  based  upon  a  firm  conviction  borne  out  by 
a  great  deal  of  empirical  evidence,  that  the  judgments 
that  the  pupil  makes  for  himself  and  puts  into  systems 
largely  through  his  own  efforts  are  infinitely  more  valu- 
able to  him  than  those  in  which  the  thought  connections 
are  suppHed  —  in  which  the  reasoning  is  done  for  him. 

This  is  the  main  difference  between  telling  and  teaching — 
between  forcing  opinions  and  principles  upon  the  pupil  through 
lectures  or  text-book  quizzes  and  leading  him  to  work  them 
out  for  himself  through  his  own  active  effort.  To  take  a  con- 
crete illustration  :  In  a  half  hour,  a  fluent  speaker,  familiar  with 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    INSTRUCTION  26 1 

his  subject,  can  explain  to  a  class  in  the  seventh  or  eighth 
grade  why  New  York  is  the  largest  city  in  the  United  States. 
It  will  take  the  best  of  teachers  several  recitation  periods,  of  a 
half  hour  each,  adequately  to  develop  these  reasons  with  the 
same  class.  Yet  no  one  who  has  compared  the  results  of  the 
two  methods  will  hesitate  a  moment  over  the  verdict  as  to 
which  process  is  the  more  valuable.  The  same  is  true  in  the 
case  of  arithmetic.  A  teacher  may  thoroughly  explain  in  a 
brief  period  the  working  of  a  problem  in  bank  discount.  It 
will  take  four  or  five  times  as  long  to  lead  the  children  to 
"  think  it  out "  for  themselves,  but  the  results  in  the  latter 
case  will  be  eight  or  ten  times  as  valuable. 

Of  course  these  comparisons  are  more  or  less  dogmatic,  and 
the  figures  entirely  imaginary,  but  both  comparisons  and  fig- 
ures are  supported  by  excellent  authority.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  experimental  investigation  will  reach  this  important  prob- 
lem before  long,  and  give  us  results  that  will  be  really  worth 
while.  Pending  such  investigations,  however,  our  only  refuge 
is  in  dogmatizing  on  the  insufficient  data  already  in  our  pos- 
session. 

5.  Certainly  this  principle  that  the  rights  of  generali- 
zation and  inference  belong  to  the  child  is  not  to  be 
accepted  without  qualification. 

(i)  It  is  folly  to  assume  that  an  immature  child  can 
build  up  a  coherent  system  of  knowledge  alone  and  un- 
aided. The  discovery  of  relations  that  hold  facts  and 
principles  together  is  a  task  that  occupies  the  highest 
type  of  mental  activity.  Men  who  can  think  clearly  are 
few  in  number,  and  even  when  we  find  them,  we  find  that 
their  capacities  in  this  direction  are  limited  to  a  restricted 
field,  in  which,  through  specialized  and  intensive  appli- 


262  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

cation,  they  have  made  themselves  proficient.  If,  then, 
the  development  method  meant  that  the  child  should  do 
for  himself  what  trained  experts  find  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty in  accomplishing,  the  task  of  the  teacher  would  be 
worse  than  hopeless. 

But  if  the  development  theory  does  not  mean  this, 
what  does  it  mean?  Simply  that  the  pupil  is  not  to  be 
told  but  led  to  see}  The  teacher  is  to  guide  and  direct 
but  not  to  carry,  and  the  more  he  eliminates  his  own  ego^ 
even  from  the  guidance  and  direction,  the  more  satis- 
factory will  be  the  result.  Whatever  the  pupil  gains, 
whatever  thought  connections  he  works  out,  must  be 
gained  with  the  consciousness  that  he,  the  pupil,  is  the 
active  agent  —  that  he  is,  in  a  sense  at  least,  the  discov- 
erer. Unknown  to  him,  however,  the  insuperable  obsta- 
cles must  be  removed.  Unknown  to  him  the  way  must 
be  partially  cleared  before  him. 

And  so  in  answer  to  the  original  question,  Shall  the 
teacher  ever  do  the  reasoning  for  the  child  ?  we  can  answer 
neither  "yes"  nor  **no."  If  we  mean.  Shall  one  follow 
out  a  line  of  reasoning  as  one  does  in  a  lecture,  tracing 
the  various  steps  through  which  the  conclusion  is  reached  ? 
we  should  say  seldom.  If  we  mean.  Should  the  teacher 
ever  help  the  child  by  hints,  suggestions,  and  questions? 
we  should  say  almost  always.     Our  criterion  must  be 

1  Cf.  Spencer :  *•  Children  should  be  led  to  make  their  own  investiga- 
tions and  draw  their  own  inferences.  They  should  be  told  as  little  as 
possible  and  led  to  discover  as  much  as  possible."  —  Education,  ii. 


DEVELOPMENT   AND    INSTRUCTION  263 

this:  Does  the  pupil  believe  himself  to  be  discovering 
the  truth  ?  This  is  the  essential  point.  As  long  as  he  is 
confident  that  he  is  the  discoverer,  the  essential  condition 
of  the  development  method  has  been  fulfilled.  In  other 
words,  it  is  the  subjective  attitude  of  the  pupil  that  is 
important  rather  than  the  objective  process. 

(2)  It  is  clear  that  the  child's  rights  of  generaUzation 
and  inference  do  not  in  the  slightest  degree  relieve  the 
teacher  of  the  task  of  arranging  his  own  work  systemati- 
cally. This  fallacy  has  caused  the  development  method 
to  fall  into  disrepute  in  some  quarters.  Teachers  have 
interpreted  it  to  mean  that  the  text-book  helps  the  child 
too  much  —  does  too  much  of  his  thinking  for  him.  As 
a  result  of  this  behef,  pupils  have  been  encouraged  to 
browse  around  in  "sources,"  nibbling  at  this  thing  and 
that,  making  acquaintance  with  a  mass  of  facts  and  prin- 
ciples that  they  are  supposed  to  correlate  and  systema- 
tize. As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  child  is  only  confused, 
and  emerges  from  such  a  course  with  little  more  accurate 
knowledge  than  he  had  at  the  beginning.  It  is  the  func- 
tion of  the  teacher  to  see  that  the  various  parts  of  the 
course  are  presented  in  consecutive  order, — in  such  a 
way  that  the  pupil  cannot  fail  to  see  the  relations  that 
the  teacher  desires  to  develop. 

In  short  it  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  the  teacher  may 
profitably  do  some  of  the  thinking  for  the  pupil.  It  is 
here  also  that  the  text-book  has  an  appropriate  function. 
In  the  ideal  school  and  under  ideal  teachers,  teacher  and 


264  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

pupil  will  work  out  their  text-books  for  themselves  as 
they  do  to-day  in  Germany,  but  under  the  conditions  of 
American  education,  this  ideal  is  far  in  the  future.  We 
shall  have  more  to  say  upon  this  point  in  a  future  chap- 
ter. Here  it  is  only  necessary  to  point  out  that  the  de- 
velopment method  does  not  do  away  with  text-books 
any  more  than  it  does  away  with  teachers.  With  the 
aid  that  the  text-book  gives,  there  is  still  abundant  room 
for  the  child  to  exercise  his  rights  of  generalization  and 
inference. 

6.  To  summarize.  The  development  method  is  sel- 
dom used  alone,  but  is  almost  always  supplemented  by 
the  method  of  instruction.  We  may  attempt  to  have 
the  child  work  out  his  generalizations  and  inferences 
independently,  but,  in  many  cases,  the  facts  upon  which 
he  is  to  work  must  be  given  to  him  indirectly,  and,  at 
best,  not  a  few  of  the  generalizations  and  inferences  must 
themselves  be  matters  of  ipse  dixit,  or  at  least  explicitly 
suggested  through  hints  and  questions. 

Consequently,  the  indirect  method  is  always  important, 
even  under  the  most  favorable  conditions,  and  must  be 
studied  carefully,  both  from  the  standpoint  of  theory 
and  from  the  standpoint  of  technique.  The  first  prob- 
lem will  be  to  discuss  the  diiBFerent  media  through  which 
the  indirect  method  works.  This  will  be  the  task  of  the 
succeeding  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XVm 

The  Media  of  Instruction 

I.  The  following  classification  of  the  media  of  instruc- 
tion is  not  intended  to  be  rigidly  inclusive  of  all  possible 
forms.  It  may,  however,  be  comprehensive  enough 
to  serve  as  a  framework  for  the  succeeding  discussion. 
The  terms  employed  are  self-explanatory. 

I.  Intellectual  transmission. 

{a)  Language. 

(i)  Oral  discourse. 
(a)  Lectures. 

(3)  Questions  and  answers. 
(2)  Books. 

{a)  Text-books. 
{b)  Reference  books. 
(c)  Source  books. 
(b)  Graphic  representation, 
(i)  Models. 

(2)  Pictures. 

(3)  Maps. 

(4)  Diagrams. 

II.  Emotional  transmission. 

{a)  Literature. 
(Jf)  Pictorial  art 
(c)  Plastic  art. 
{d)  Music. 
(<?)   Oratory. 

265 


266  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

2.  (a)  Language.  This  is  the  most  efficient  medium 
for  the  transmission  of  experience:  (i)  because  it  is 
the  most  elaborately  organized  and  hence  susceptible 
of  the  greatest  variety  of  combinations  expressing  the 
finest  gradations  of  meaning;  and  (2)  because  it  em- 
ploys words  which  represent  condensed  experiences 
or  concepts;  thus  dealing  with  experience  not  in  the 
concrete  but  in  the  abstract  —  dealing,  in  other  words, 
only  with  essentials. 

There  are,  however,  three  factors  that  condition  the 
highest  efficiency  of  language.  These  factors  are  espe- 
cially important  in  the  use  of  language  as  a  medium  of 
instruction,  (i)  The  first  is  agreement  of  meaning.  My 
words  represent  my  own  experiences.  If  they  do  not 
represent  your  experiences  as  well,  we  talk  at  cross  pur- 
poses. Hence  the  common  saying  that  there  would  be 
few  disputes  in  the  world  if  men  could  only  agree  upon 
terms.  Hence,  also,  the  strenuous  effort  in  every  science 
to  build  up  a  vocabulary  of  technical  terms  the  mean- 
ing of  each  of  which  shall  be  absolutely  unequivocal. 
An  important  duty  of  education  in  its  earher  stages  is 
to  give  the  child  a  vocabular}'.  We  have  already  empha- 
sized this  point  from  the  conceptual  side,  but  the  child 
needs  words  not  only  that  he  may  manipulate  his  con- 
cepts readily  in  the  formation  of  judgments  for  his  own 
use,  but  also  that  he  may  assimilate  the  experiences  of 
his  fellows  and  transmit  to  others  his  own  experiences. 

(2)  A  second  factor  that  influences  the  efficiency  of 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  267 

language  is  the  danger  of  verbalism,  which  is  the  com- 
monest and  most  pernicious  species  of  formaHsm.  It 
is  so  easy  to  juggle  with  words  that  the  temptation  is 
often  strong  to  use  words  obscurely  in  order  to  cover 
deficiencies  of  thought.  As  Talleyrand  paradoxically 
put  it,  "Speech  was  given  man  to  conceal  his  thoughts." 
From  a  negative  standpoint,  this  factor  is  extremely 
important  to  the  process  of  instruction. 

(3)  A  third  condition  of  the  effective  use  of  language 
is  mastery  of  forms  of  combination.  There  are  certain 
conventional  requirements  as  to  the  manner  in  which 
words  shall  be  put  together.  Some  of  these  require- 
ments may,  perhaps,  be  neglected  at  times  without  inter- 
fering materially  with  the  purpose  of  expression,  but 
in  general  very  decided  lapses  from  conventional  forms 
tend  to  make  expression  inefl&cient.  It  is  therefore  an 
important  task  of  education  in  its  earlier  stages  to  make 
habitual  the  use  of  conventionally  correct  forms. 

3.  Comparison  oj  Oral  and  Book  Instruction.  Expe- 
riences may  be  transmitted  either  by  word  of  mouth  or 
by  written  or  printed  symbols.  The  former  may  be 
designated  as  the  oral,  the  latter  as  the  hook  method. 
Both  are  extensively  used  in  the  schools,  but  as  books 
become  cheaper  and  more  common,  the  tendency  is 
toward  an  increasing  use  of  the  latter  method.  There 
are  those,  however,  who  maintain  that  this  emphasis 
of  book  instruction  has  gone  too  far,  that  a  certain  vital- 
izing  force   which   oral   instruction   involved   has   been 


268  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

largely  crushed  out  by  the  book  method,  and  that  the 
teacher  should  make  a  strenuous  efifort  to  provide  more 
and  better  oral  instruction.  That  the  oral  method  pos- 
sesses some  marked  advantages  over  the  book  method 
is  certainly  apparent  from  the  briefest  study  of  the 
factors  involved. 

(i)  It  represents  the  more  primitive  form  of  communication. 
Oral  language  was  used  for  thousands  of  years  before  written 
symbols  were  invented.  As  President  Hall  ^  puts  it :  "  The 
short  circuit  from  ear  to  mouth  .  .  .  existed  for  unknown  eons 
before  reading  and  writing,"  which  represent  "  the  long  circuit, 
and,  biologically,  very  recent  brain-path  from  eye  to  hand." 
Written  language  has  never  even  threatened  to  replace  oral 
language,  except  in  the  schools.  Its  normal  function  is 
entirely  supplementary,  and  its  field  is  closely  restricted  to 
the  territory  that  oral  speech  cannot  effectively  cover. 

(2)  Viewed  from  the  psychophysical  standpoint,  oral  trans- 
mission is  the  more  economical  of  energy.  The  delicate  eye 
movements  that  reading  involves  require  a  finer  degree  of 
motor  coordination,  and  consequently  a  more  rapid  disinte- 
gration of  nerve  tissue,  than  the  adjustments  involved  in  listen- 
ing. This  point  is  especially  important  in  the  lower  grades, 
where  the  capacity  for  delicate  motor  coordinations  is  only 
slightly  developed,  and  where  undue  strain  may  result  in 
serious  and  permanent  defects  of  vision.  Investigations^  have 
shown  that  practiced  readers  make  from  four  to  five  movements 
of  the  eyes  in  reading  a  line  of  average  length,  while  unprac- 
ticed  readers  make  from  two  to  three  times  as  many  move- 
ments in  covering  the  same  space.     Hence  tjie  strain  is  much 

1  Hall :  Ideal  School,  p.  478;   cf.  Adolescence,  vol.  ii,  pp.  461-462. 

*  B.  Erdmann  and  R.  Dodge :  Psychologische  Untersuchungen  ueber 
das  Lesen  auf  experimentelle  Grundlage,  Halle,  1898,  p.  50;  also  E.  B. 
Httey,  in  American  Journal  of  Psychology,  1899,  vol.  ix,  pp.  574  & 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  269 

greater  with  the  latter.  To  require  children  who  have  but 
recently  acquired  the  art  of  reading  to  read  for  any  great 
length  of  time  is  certainly  unhygienic. 

(3)  It  is  generally  agreed  that  oral  instruction  holds  the 
attention  much  better  than  book  instruction.  The  speaker  has 
at  his  command  certain  auxiliary  means  of  soliciting  attention 
which  the  writer  entirely  lacks.  He  can  adapt  his  words  to 
the  capacity  of  his  auditors,  while  the  writer  must  have  in  mind 
a  typical  audience,  which  may  or  may  not  materiaHze.  He 
can  take  advantage  of  what  might  be  termed  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion.  He  can  bring  in  local  coloring  and  incidents  to 
illustrate  his  points.  He  can  modulate  his  voice,  emphasizing 
the  salient  points  and  minimizing  those  less  saUent,  thus  pro- 
ducing that  variety  of  stimulation  to  which  the  "  rise,  poise, 
fall "  of  the  attention  wave  corresponds ;  the  writer's  words 
are  practically  all  upon  the  same  "  level."  The  speaker  can, 
moreover,  help  out  his  words  by  gestures  and  facial  expression, 
especially  the  expression  of  the  eyes ;  or,  to  put  it  in  another 
way,  the  speaker  works  in  three  dimensions,  while  the  writer  is 
limited  to  one. 

As  an  offset  to  these  advantages,  the  oral  method  pos- 
sesses, of  course,  some  obvious  limitations.  Economical 
from  the  psychophysical  standpoint,  it  is  far  from  eco- 
nomical from  a  financial  standpoint.  A  man  can  address 
a  million  people  by  writing  where  he  can  address  a  thou- 
sand by  speech.  Books  fulfill  an  indispensable  function, 
and  the  individual  who  is  ever  to  become  independent 
of  direct,  personal  instruction  must  learn  how  to  gain 
thought  through  the  printed  page.  Yet  one  cannot 
escape  the  conclusion  that  oral  instruction  is,  generally 
speaking,  the  more  efficient,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that 


270  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

it  should  be  the  principal  medium  of  instruction  in  the 
elementary  grades.  To  quote  President  Hall  ^  again : 
"The  child  should  live  in  a  world  of  sonorous  speech. 
He  should  hear  and  talk  for  hours  each  day;  and  then 
he  would  lay  the  foundations  for  terse  and  correct  Eng- 
lish, and  would  keep  read-writing,  as  it  forever  should 
be,  subordinate  to  hearing  and  speaking.  He  would 
write  as  he  speaks,  and  we  should  escape  the  abomination 
of  bookish  talk." 

4.  Comparison  of  Lecture  and  Question-and-answer 
Instruction.  These  are  two  types  of  oral  instruction 
that  have  found  a  place  in  the  school,  —  the  lecture  method 
and  the  question-and-answer,  or  Socratic,  method.  For 
a  long  time,  the  lecture  method  has  dominated  the  higher 
institutions  of  learning.  In  the  universities  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  before  the  invention  of  printing  made  text-books 
possible,  and  when  the  vast  numbers  ^  of  students  that 
flocked  to  the  centers  of  learning  made  anything  like 
personal  contact  between  student  and  instructor  out 
of  the  question,  there  was  no  recourse  but  to  the  lecture 
method.  University  Hfe  is  always  ultra-conservative, 
and  one  need  not  marvel  that  the  lecture  method  still 
persists,  notwithstanding  its  admitted  pedagogical  defi- 
ciencies. 

1  Hall :  Ideal  School,  p.  479. 

*  According  to  some  authorities,  the  students  attending  a  popular 
mediaeval  university  sometimes  numbered  as  high  as  twenty  or  thirty 
thousand.  Cf.  S.  S.  Laurie :  Rise  and  Constitution  of  Universities,  New 
York,  1892,  p.  155. 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  2/1 

Two  objections  have  been  urged  against  the  lecture 
method  :  (a)  it  offers  no  scope  for  active  and  creative 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  student  or  pupil;  he  takes  in 
but  he  does  not  give  out;  he  accepts  judgments  and 
trains  of  reasoning  that  his  instructor  has  elaborated, 
but  he  does  not  have  an  opportunity  or  an  incentive 
to  do  much  reasoning  for  himself;  in  short,  the  lecture 
method  is  too  exclusively  indirect;  (b)  a  second  objec- 
tion is  based  upon  the  note-taking  that  the  lecture 
method  involves,  the  contention  being  that  the  lecture 
frequently  degenerates  into  a  mere  dictation  exercise,  the 
instructor  reading  from  his  prepared  manuscript  while 
the  student  scribbles  down  the  sentences  as  fast  as  they 
are  uttered.^ 

Of  these  two  criticisms,  the  first  is  probably  the  more 
damaging.'^  At  best  the  student  is  a  comparatively 
passive  agent  in  the  lecture  process,  although  it  depends 
very  largely  on  the  instructor  whether  he  is  entirely 
passive.  The  combination  of  the  lecture  with  the  "quiz" 
raises  the  lecture  method  at  least  to  the  level  of  the  text- 

1  Cf.  C.  De  Garmo,  in  Educational  Review,  1902,  vol.  xxiii,  pp.  109  ff. 

^  Professor  O'Shea  has  made  a  careful  investigation  of  the  work  of  one 
thousand  university  graduates  teaching  in  the  Wisconsin  high  schools. 
Of  those  who  made  failures  in  their  work,  not  a  few,  he  finds,  can  justly 
ascribe  such  failure  to  the  application  of  the  lecture  method  to  secondary 
instruction.  This  had  been  the  method  that  they  were  familiar  with  in 
the  university,  and  their  first  tendency  was  to  lecture  to  their  classes. 
Out  of  one  hundred  principals  and  superintendents  who  were  questioned 
upon  this  point,  eighty-five  admitted  it  to  be  a  very  common  fault  among 
university  trained  teachers.  Cf.  M,  V.  O'Shea,  in  School  Review,  1902, 
voL  X,  pp.  778-795. 


2/2  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

book  "recitation"  in  this  respect.  Furthermore,  there 
are  certain  topics  that  can  be  satisfactorily  treated  only 
by  the  lecture  method,  —  for  example,  the  first  general 
view  of  a  science,  or  an  advanced  course  giving  the  out- 
lines of  a  new  and  special  theory.  In  the  latter  case, 
the  lecture  may  be  justified  on  the  ground  that  the  mate- 
rial does  not  exist  in  book  form.  In  the  former  case, 
the  lecture  may  be  justified  on  the  ground  that  such 
courses  should  be  given  by  a  person  who  is  thoroughly 
a  master  of  the  field;  they  should  also  cover  the  ground 
in  a  general  rather  than  in  a  specific  way;  because  of 
the  first  condition,  a  large  class  cannot  be  cut  up  into 
sections  for  individual  work,  and  because  of  the  second 
condition,  a  detailed  "  question- and-answer"  process 
would  require  too  much  time. 

The  second  criticism  is  likewise  merited,  but  the  dan- 
ger that  it  points  to  is  not  inherent  in  the  lecture  method. 
If  the  student  is  to  make  a  verbatim  transcript  of  the 
instructor's  sentences,  he  is  certainly  reducing  his  share 
of  the  instruction  to  useless  drudgery.  Note-taking, 
however,  if  it  be  of  the  proper  sort,  is  not  altogether 
useless.  In  some  measure,  it  aids  in  concentrating  the 
attention  and,  unless  slavishly  verbatim,  it  introduces  an 
element  of  active  thought  in  that  it  involves  a  condensa- 
tion of  the  instructor's  materials. 

Perhaps  the  best  way  to  obviate  the  difficulty  is  for  the  stu- 
dent to  take  a  few  notes  during  the  lecture  and  at  some  later 
period  expand  these  into  a  more  elaborate  form,  —  utilizing 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  273 

the  material  of  the  lecture  in  a  way  that  will  involve,  perhaps, 
not  a  little  creative  effort.  This  is  thoroughly  worth  while, 
although,  like  all  good  things,  it  may  easily  be  overdone. 
(Witness  the  barren  formalism  of  many  "  note-book  "  normal 
schools.)  A  large  number  of  courses  treated  simultaneously  in 
this  way  will  give  the  student  so  much  writing  to  do  that  the 
sole  virtue  of  the  device  —  the  fact  that  it  may  promote  inde- 
pendent activity  —  is  likely  to  be  lost. 

The  two  great  advantages  of  the  lecture  method  as 
compared  with  the  question-and-answer  method  are 
its  definite  and  systematic  character  and  its  economy 
of  time.  It  is  especially  well  adapted  to  keep  the  sub- 
ject-matter organized  and  coherent.  This  advantage 
is,  of  course,  extremely  important  in  the  treatment  of 
difficult  sciences. 

The  question-and-answer,  or  Socratic,  method  escapes 
many  of  the  pitfalls  of  the  lecture  method,  but  has  one 
or  two  faults  peculiar  to  itself.  Its  main  virtue  is  that 
it  demands  the  reciprocal  activity  of  pupil  and  teacher. 
While  it  may  involve  note-taking,  this  feature  will  neces- 
sarily occupy  a  subordinate  position  and  will  not,  in 
any  case,  degenerate  into  a  dictation  exercise.  This 
method  is  especially  well  adapted  to  combine  the  method 
of  development  with  the  method  of  instruction.  The 
combination  is  known  as  the  "development  lesson," 
and  its  technique  will  be  discussed  in  Chapters  XIX 
and  XX. 

The  disadvantage  of  the  question-and-answer  method 
is  its  tendency  to  become  discursive,  to  wander  from  the 


2/4  THE    EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

point.  It  requires  great  skill  on  the  part  of  the  teacher, 
in  fact,  the  art  of  teaching  probably  finds  its  widest  scope 
in  the  appHcation  of  this  method.  By  the  same  token, 
it  is  the  pitfall  of  weak  teachers. 

Among  some  educators  there  is  a  superstition  that  the  ques- 
tion-and-answer  method  is  the  only  true  method  of  instruction. 
This  exaggerated  view  finds  expression  in  the  unwilHngness  to 
impart  information  in  any  way  save  by  Socratic  questioning. 
Valuable  time  is  spent  in  attempting  to  get  children  to  discover 
unimportant  truths,  under  a  vague  and  hazy  notion  that  it 
doesn't  matter  much  what  the  truth  is  so  long  as  the  child  dis- 
covers it  for  himself;  and  so  anxious  is  the  teacher  to  have  him 
discover  it  for  himself  that  he  spends  twenty  or  thirty  minutes 
in  a  "  pumping  "  process  to  get  a  result  which  could  have  been 
stated  in  as  many  seconds. 

It  is  this  tendency  to  "  beat  about  the  bush  "  that  constitutes 
the  most  dangerous  pitfall  of  the  question-and-answer  method. 
Some  judgments  are  not  worth  developing ;  they  may  better  be 
stated  as  clearly  and  tersely  as  possible.  The  danger  of  con- 
fusing the  pupil  with  a  mass  of  details  is  also  a  source  of  some 
inadequate  results  in  the  application  of  this  method  by  unskilled 
teachers.  If  the  teacher  is  himself  incapable  of  keeping  system 
and  unity  in  his  thinking,  he  will  find  that  his  pupils  cannot  do 
it  for  him. 

It  is  for  all  these  reasons  that  the  question-and-answer  method 
is  likely  to  fail  most  lamentably  if  the  teacher  does  not  make 
adequate  preparation  for  each  lesson.  Questions  must  be  care- 
fully worked  out  beforehand  and  arranged  in  the  proper  order, 
so  that  successive  phases  of  the  topic  will  be  developed  consecu- 
tively. One  cannot  trust  to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment 
for  this  factor.  This  is  true  even  when  the  subject  of  instruc- 
tion is  developed  over  and  over  again  at  intervals  of  a  year 
or  half  year.     The  teacher  who  has  got  beyond  the  necessity 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  275 

for  a  Strenuous  daily  preparation  has  outlived  his  professional 
usefulness. 

To  summarize:  While  the  question-and-answer  method 
is  not  the  only  method  of  imparting  instruction,  it  is 
perhaps  the  most  important,  especially  in  elementary 
education.  It  can,  however,  be  carried  too  far,  and 
its  successful  application  requires  a  high  degree  of  skill 
on  the  part  of  the  teacher. 

5.  Comparison  of  the  Relative  Values  oj  Different 
Book  Methods.  While  oral  instruction  possesses  some 
marked  advantages,  it  is  clear  that  it  is  not  in  itself 
adequate  to  the  needs  of  education;  it  must  be  supple- 
mented by  book  instruction.  The  difference  between 
text-books,  treatises,  and  monographs  has  already  been 
indicated.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  last  named 
is  the  original  record  of  the  investigator  and  observer 
to  whom  we  owe  the  fundamental  facts  and  principles 
of  any  special  science.  It  embodies  the  judgments 
that  he  has  made  upon  the  basis  of  direct  experience. 
The  text-book  and  the  treatise,  on  the  other  hand,  rep- 
resent syntheses  of  judgments  borrowed  from  many 
sources.  The  knowledge  that  they  embody  has  been 
worked  over  by  a  number  of  different  minds  and  is  pre- 
sented in  a  form  very  different  from  that  which  it  first 
assumed.  We  have  now  to  compare  the  use  of  these 
two  classes  of  books  as  media  of  instruction. 

It  might  be  argued  that,  if  direct  experience  is  the  best 
way  in  which  to  gain  judgments,  the  source  method, 


2/6  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

representing  as  it  does  judgments  that  are  only  one 
remove  from  original  concrete  experiences,  would  be  the 
next  best  way.  Upon  such  a  presupposition,  the  ideal 
method  in  geography  would  be  to  lead  the  child  to  study 
the  first-hand  reports  of  travelers  and  explorers  rather 
than  to  read  accounts  that  have  been  compiled  from 
these  reports.  In  history,  it  would  seem  that  the  origi- 
nal records,  written  by  actual  participators  in  or  observers 
of  historical  events  would  form  better  media  of  instruction 
than  treatises  or  text-books  upon  history  worked  up  by 
writers  who  live  at  the  present  time.  This  general  posi- 
tion has  been  seriously  maintained  by  certain  educators 
as  appHcable  even  to  the  work  of  the  elementary  school. 
It  is  doubtless  true  that  the  source  method  has  a  legiti- 
mate use  at  all  stages  of  instruction,  but  it  is  seriously 
to  be  doubted  whether  its  function  in  elementary  educa- 
tion should  be  anything  more  than  supplementary.  The 
proper  interpretation  of  source  records  is  a  task  that 
demands  the  experience  and  skill  of  a  specialist.  All 
available  records  must  be  carefully  studied  and  com- 
pared with  a  view  of  determining  and  accounting  for 
individual  differences,  for  no  two  men  see  the  same  thing 
in  exactly  the  same  way.  The  task  of  the  worker  in 
source  materials  is  to  effect  a  compromise  between  con- 
flicting or  inconsistent  reports,  and  to  do  this  success- 
fully requires  a  sifting  of  evidence  that  is  far  beyond  the 
capacity  of  the  adult  layman,  let  alone  the  child.  The 
treatise  and  the  text-book  may  not  represent  the  absolute 


THE    MEDIA   OF    INSTRUCTION  2/7 

truth,  but  even  the  poofest  specimens  represent  a  closer 
approximation  to  the  truth  than  the  child,  with  the  aid 
of  the  average  teacher,  is  Hkely  to  reach.  This  does  not 
mean,  of  course,  that  the  child  is  to  give  up  his  rights 
of  generahzation  and  inference.  It  simply  means  that 
there  are  some  fields  where  the  exercise  of  these  rights 
is  out  of  the  question.  What  the  child  lacks  in  any 
case  is  the  historical,  or  the  geographical,  or  the  scien- 
tific perspective. 

What,  then,  is  the  field  of  the  source  method  in  the 
elementary  school?  Certainly  source  materials  may 
be  used  for  illustrative  purposes.  A  contemporary 
account  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  taken  by  itself, 
would  probably  be  misleading.  But  it  could  not  fail, 
if  read  in  connection  with  an  authoritative  account  drawn 
by  an  expert  hand  from  all  available  sources,  to  add  a 
touch  of  reahty  and  vividness  to  the  total  effect.  In 
the  same  way,  geographical  sources  —  books  of  travel, 
records  of  exploration,  consular  reports,  industrial  and 
commercial  statistics  —  may  all  be  used  to  supplement 
the  regular  text-book  work,  but  the  text  should  mani- 
festly be  the  center  of  the  study.  It  should  form  the 
outline,  the  framework,  upon  which  the  more  complete 
knowledge  may  be  built. 

We  may  conclude,  then,  that  the  text-book  is  the  chief 
medium  of  book  instruction  in  the  elementary  school, 
at  least,  and  that  here  the  source  method  should  be 
used,  not  as  a  basis  for  judgment,  but  to  add  vividness 


2/8  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

and  life  to  the  facts  that  the  text-book  presents.  The 
great  danger  that  inheres  in  the  use  of  the  text-book 
is  the  danger  of  verbalism.  How  this  may  be  combated 
and  how  the  text-book  may  be  used  in  connection  with 
the  method  of  development  are  questions  that  must 
be  left  for  later  treatment. 

6.  (6)  Graphic  Representation  as  a  Medium  o}  Instruc- 
tion. Besides  language,  the  work  of  instruction  involves 
such  media  as  maps,  pictures,  models,  diagrams,  etc. 
Graphic  representation  in  any  of  these  forms  attempts 
to  reproduce  in  some  measure  the  features  that  the  visual 
observer  would  meet  in  direct  experience.  It  might 
be  thought  that  the  photograph  would  represent  the 
most  faithful  form  of  reproduction,  but  this  is  not  neces- 
sarily true.  Just  as  the  actual  observer  will  emphasize 
certain  features  by  an  act  of  attention,  so  the  picture 
that  represents  most  faithfully  the  view  of  the  observer 
will  emphasize  the  characteristics  that  he  emphasizes 
and  minimize  the  characteristics  that  he  neglects.  It 
thus  follows  that,  for  purposes  of  instruction,  the  photo- 
graph may  not  be  so  valuable  as  the  drawing. 

The  picture,  then,  may  possess  an  advantage  over 
the  real  situation  itself,  in  that  it  brings  out  in  strong 
relief  the  features  that  instruction  would  emphasize. 
It  relieves  (or  may  reheve)  the  observer  of  the  task  of 
seeking  these  salient  characteristics  for  himself.  The 
picture  approaches  the  diagram  accordingly  as  it  per- 
forms this  service  in  greater  and  greater  degreer    The 


THE    MEDIA   OF    INSTRUCTION  2/9 

diagram  is  a  picture  that  presents  only  the  essentials. 
The  non-essentials  are  left  out  for  clearness'  sake. 

The  principle  that  underlies  the  use  of  these  media 
of  instruction  is  simple  enough.  Facts,  judgments, 
are  to  be  drawn  from  them  just  as  they  are  to  be  drawn 
from  actual  situations.  Practically  speaking,  they  rep- 
resent aggregate  ideas  which  must  be  solved  by  the 
judgment   process. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  most  teachers  derive  little  aid  from  the 
pictures  that  the  text-books  employ.  They  look  upon  them 
merely  as  means  of  diversion  and  amusement.  This  is  a  seri- 
ous mistake.  The  picture  should  be  made  an  object  of  study 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  actual  situation  represented  by  the 
picture,  were  the  pupils  able  to  face  it  directly.  Take,  for 
example,  a  picture  in  a  geographical  text-book,  representing 
an  elevator  at  Duluth.  If  the  teacher  and  his  pupils  were  on 
the  docks  at  Duluth,  the  situation  could  easily  be  turned  to 
educational  account.  In  a  certain  measure  the  picture  may 
be  turned  to  the  same  account.  What  is  in  the  elevator? 
Where  did  the  grain  come  from?  How?  In  what  way  is 
it  handled?  Why  are  the  steamers  here?  Are  they  loading 
or  unloading?  Where  will  the  steamers  go  after  they  have 
received  or  discharged  their  cargoes? 

Pictures,  like  travel,  will  avail  but  little  if  only  the  passive 
attention  is  appealed  to. 

If  models,  maps,  and  diagrams  may  be  looked  upon 
as  pictures,  with  everything  left  out  that  might  obscure 
the  salient  features,  they  are,  as  it  were,  aggregate  ideas 
partially  worked  out  and  only  waiting  to  be  expressed 
in  judgment  form.     Consider,  for  example,  the  diagrams 


280  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

representing  the  connections  of  fiber  tracts  in  the  central 
nervous  system.  They  are  not  copies  of  what  the  micro- 
scope would  reveal  —  as  the  student  quickly  discovers 
when  he  passes  from  the  text-book  to  the  laboratory. 
The  same  principle  applies,  however,  to  the  study  of 
diagrams  and  models  as  would  apply  if  they  were  the 
actual  things  themselves. 

Needless  to  say,  the  various  forms  of  graphic  represen- 
tation are  subject  to  the  same  limitations  as  other  media 
of  indirect  education.  Just  as  the  working  out  of  judg- 
ments for  one's  self  increases  their  revival  value,  so  study- 
ing a  picture  in  which  all  the  salient  points  are  not  forced 
upon  one's  attention  may  involve  an  element  of  active 
effort  which  will  increase  the  value  of  the  process.  Need- 
less to  say,  also,  diagrams  and  models  may,  with  great 
value,  be  constructed  by  the  pupils  themselves.  The 
making  of  an  illustrative  diagram  or  model  is  one  form 
of  expressing  a  judgment. 

7.  The  Media  0}  Emotional  Transmission.  Concern- 
ing this  second  large  rubric  in  our  outline,  there  is  space 
to  say  but  little.  There  is  obviously  a  difference  between 
language  used  for  purely  intellectual  purposes  and  lan- 
guage used  for  emotional  purposes.  Similarly,  there 
is  a  difference  between  pictures  used  to  represent  situa- 
tions that  we  cannot  actually  face  and  pictures  that 
rank  as  works  of  art.  Yet  the  emotional  type,  like  the 
intellectual  type,  represents  a  medium  for  the  trans- 
mission of  experience.     Just  as  I  assimilate  from  Nansen's 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  28 1 

record  of  his  explorations  something  of  his  experiences 
in  the  far  North,  so  I  assimilate  from  a  reading  of  "  Pen- 
dennis  "  something  of  Thackeray's  experiences  with  the 
world  at  large.  And  just  as,  in  looking  at  a  newspaper 
cut  of  a  battle  ship,  I  have  in  some  measure  the  experi- 
ence of  the  man  who  drew  the  picture,  so  in  looking  upon 
the  Sistine  Madonna  I  gain  something  of  Raphael's 
experiences. 

And  yet  there  is  a  radical  difference  between  these 
two  types,  notwithstanding  their  similarity  of  function. 
If  I  had  been  with  Nansen  and  if  I  had  had  an  adequate 
scientific  training,  I  could  have  seen  about  the  same 
things  that  he  describes.  And  if  I  had  been  with  the 
newspaper  illustrator  as  he  drew  the  picture  of  the  battle 
ship,  I  could  have  seen  it  practically  as  he  saw  it.  But 
I  might  have  Hved  side  by  side  with  Thackeray  during 
his  entire  hfe  and  missed  the  subtle  observations  with 
which  "  Pendennis  "  charms  us ;  and  even  though  I  had 
seen  Raphael  at  work  upon  his  masterpiece,  even  though 
the  models  which  he  used  were  before  my  eyes,  I  could 
not  have  seen  in  those  models  what  Raphael  saw. 

The  media  of  intellectual  transmission  and  the  media 
of  emotional  transmission  stand,  then,  upon  different 
levels.  The  latter  transmit  experiences,  not  with  situa- 
tions as  they  would  appeal  to  any  man  of  average  intelli- 
gence, but  with  situations  as  they  would  appeal  to  the 
artist,  the  poet,  the  seer,  —  with  sensuous  materials  it 
is  true,  but  sensuous  materials  tinged  by  an  emotional, 


282  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

a  personal,  coloring.  The  essential  characteristic  of 
intellectual  transmission  is  its  constancy,  its  invaria- 
bility. It  represents  what  the  average  man  would  see 
under  similar  conditions.  The  essence  of  emotional 
transmission  is  its  inconstancy,  its  ultravariability. 
It  represents  what  only  one  man  in  a  million,  perhaps 
one  man  in  a  hundred  million,  would  experience.  This 
is  the  difference  between  scientific  exposition  and  litera- 
ture, between  photography  and  art. 

8.  It  has  been  pointed  out  above  ^  that  emotional 
experiences  function  in  two  important  ways:  (a)  they 
form  the  essential  ingredients  of  ideals  ;  and  (b)  they 
lie  at  the  basis  of  the  sentiments  or  the  higher  forms 
of  pleasure.  This  dichotomy  furnishes  the  cue  for  the 
educational  interpretation  of  art.  All  forms  of  artistic 
expression  are  media  for  the  transmission  of  emotional 
experiences.  In  teaching  literature,  music,  and  similar 
subjects,  one  is  apt  to  overlook  this  fact  and  to  apply  the 
methods  that  one  would  apply  in  the  teaching  of  geogra- 
phy and  grammar.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  see  a  class  in 
the  upper  grades  or  in  the  high  school  "studying"  classic 
literature  for  facts,  criticising  it  upon  a  factual  basis, 
subjecting  it  to  the  indignity  of  paraphrase  and  condensa- 
tion, and  treating  it  in  general  as  they  would  a  text-book. 
If  the  great  pictures  are  not  abused  in  the  same  way,  it  is 
because  the  picture  does  not  lend  itself  so  readily  to  this 
formal  and  curriculized  treatment. 

1  See  chs.  xiii  and  xiv,  above. 


THE    MEDIA    OF    INSTRUCTION  283 

Yet  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  a  "picture  lesson"  in  the 
elementary  school  devoted  to  bringing  out  a  few  facts  about 
the  artist,  data  as  to  where  the  picture  was  painted,  where  the 
original  is  kept,  how  much  it  is  worth,  and  numberless  other 
bits  of  information  —  valuable,  no  doubt,  in  a  way,  but  utterly 
insignificant  in  comparison  with  the  revelation  that  the  picture 
has  in  store  for  one  who  can  understand  and  appreciate. 

Still  more  reprehensible  is  that  "  analytic  "  study  of  a  great 
picture  which  merely  attempts  to  enumerate  the  objects  rep- 
resented. The  writer  has  heard  the  following  questions  asked 
concerning  Millet's  "  Gleaners  "  :  How  many  women  do  you 
find  in  the  picture  ?  How  many  horses  ?  What  else  do  you  see 
in  the  picture  ?  etc.  In  a  language  book  intended  for  use  in 
the  fourth  grade,  the  following  questions  appear  with  reference 
to  the  same  picture  :  "  In  the  foreground  are  three  peasant 
women ;  what  are  they  doing  ?  Describe  their  dress  and  tell 
how  they  carry  the  gathered  grain.  For  what  do  you  think  they 
will  use  the  grain  when  gathered  ?  How  will  it  be  stored  ?  For 
whom  do  you  think  they  are  working?  "  Most  of  these  questions 
certainly  add  nothing  to  one's  appreciation  of  Millet's  art,  and  as 
far  as  useful  information  is  concerned,  they  fall  far  below  the 
standard  of  the  teacher  who  used  this  picture  to  draw  a  lesson  on 
the  superiority  of  the  "  self-binder  "  of  our  Western  wheat  fields 
over  the  primitive  harvesting  methods  of  the  European  peasantry  ! 

9.  The  mission  of  art  is  not  to  instruct  in  the  intellec- 
tual sense  of  the  term,  but  rather  to  please,  to  reveal,  and 
to  inspire.  It  transmits  experiences  of  the  emotional 
order,  and  the  only  way  in  which  it  can  fulfill  its  function 
is  by  infusing  into  the  individual  something  of  the  spirit 
that  moved  the  artist  to  its  creation.  In  other  words, 
the  media  of  emotional  transmission  must  be  met  with 
an  emotional  interpretation. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction; 
(a)  The  Inductive  Development  Lesson 

1.  The  principles  that  have  been  developed  in  the 
preceding  chapters  have  much  to  do  in  determining  the 
form  of  the  various  school  exercises.  Those  exercises 
that  have  form  and  structure  may  be  termed,  generi- 
cally,  "lessons."  Fundamental  differences  in  form  imply 
fundamental  differences  in  function,  and  successful 
teaching  is  conditioned  in  no  small  degree  upon  an  ade- 
quate understanding  of  the  structure  and  functions  of 
typical  lessons.  The  following  classification  will  serve 
as  a  basis  for  the  subsequent  discussion :  — 

(i)  The  Development  Lesson. 

(a)  The  Inductive  Development  Lesson. 
{i>)  The  Deductive  Development  Lesson. 

(2)  The  Study  Lesson. 

(3)  The  Recitation  Lesson. 

(4)  The  Drill  Lesson. 

(5)  The  Review  Lesson. 

(6)  The  Examination. 

2.  The  Development  Lesson.  The  function  of  the 
development  lesson  is  to  lead  the  pupil  to  the  formation 
of  a  concept  or  judgment  through  a  process  which  shall, 
as  far  as  possible,  utilize  the  direct  method.  When  it 
is  necessary  to  use  the  indirect  method,  questions  and 
answers  are  employed  rather  than  lectures. 

284 


THE    INDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  28$ 

There  are  two  distinct  varieties  of  the  development 
lesson:  (a)  the  inductive,  which  develops  (i)  concepts 
from  particular  experiences,  (2)  particular  judgments 
or  facts  from  concrete  aggregates,  and  (3)  general  judg- 
ments or  principles  from  particular  judgments;  and 
(b)  the  deductive,  which  develops  particular  judgments 
from  more  general  judgments.  Neither  of  these  classes 
is  necessarily  exclusive  of  the  other;  that  is,  in  one  and 
the  same  lesson,  one  may  use  both  inductive  and  deduc- 
tive processes.  The  terms  simply  indicate  the  general 
character  of  typical  lessons.  One  may  be  inductive 
as  a  whole  and  yet  employ  deductive  processes  in  places; 
another  may  be  deductive  as  a  whole  and  yet  employ 
inductive  processes  in  places. 

3.  The  Inductive  Development  Lesson,  This  type  of 
lesson  has  been  thoroughly  worked  out  by  the  followers 
of  Herbart  upon  the  principles  laid  down  by  Herbart 
himself.  In  its  present  well-organized  form,  it  is  an 
organic  unity  made  up  of  a  number  of  articulated  parts 
known  as  "formal  steps."  That  is,  the  inductive  devel- 
opment lesson  falls  into  a  number  of  logical  subdivisions, 
each  with  a  specific  function  to  fulfill  in  promoting  the 
purpose  of  the  lesson  as  a  whole. 

Herbart^  originally  suggested  four  steps:  (i)  clearness, 
(2)  association,  (3)  system,  (4)  method.  By  the  step  of 
clearness,  he  meant  the  grasping  of  separate  details,  one  by 

1  J.  F.  Herbart :  Schriften  zur  P'ddagogik,  Leipzig,  1851,  R.  i,  pp.  49- 
51;  English  trans.,  Science  0/  Education,  Felkin,  Boston,  1896,  pp.  126  fit 


286  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

one.  In  our  own  terminology  it  represents  the  first  analysis 
of  the  aggregate  idea.  At  this  stage,  mind  differentiates  par- 
ticulars, and  views  each  of  them  in  and  for  itself. 

In  the  step  of  association,  mind  passes  from  the  individual 
or  particular  elements,  thus  isolated,  to  the  discovery  of  com- 
mon qualities  or  relations  which  bind  the  isolated  elements 
together. 

System  is  an  orderly  reconstruction  of  the  elements  upon  the 
basis  of  the  relations  discovered.  In  our  terminology  it  rep- 
resents the  solution  of  the  aggregate  —  the  formation  of  a  judg- 
ment. Herbart  very  distinctly  points  out  that  the  relations  are 
not  present  in  one's  first  perception  of  an  aggregate,  but  come 
out  only  in  the  process  of  division  and  recombination. 

Method  is  the  application  of  the  judgment  thus  formed  to 
new  situations.  It  is  the  supreme  test,  as  it  were,  of  the  whole 
process.  In  his  own  rather  obscure  way,  Herbart  laments  the 
fact  that,  after  judgments  are  formed,  they  are  seldom  used. 
"  Method,"  he  says,^  "  is  for  most  men  merely  a  name  that 
they  have  learned.  Their  thinking  hovers  uncertainly  between 
abstraction  and  determination.  They  follow  sense-stimuli  in- 
stead of  relations.  They  associate  similarities  and  rhyme  thing 
with  concept." 

The  formal  steps,  as  thus  suggested  by  Herbart,  are 
seen  to  be  a  fairly  accurate  description  of  the  way  in 
which  mind  goes  to  work  to  form  judgments.  As  noted 
above,  the  formation  of  a  judgment  involves  a  process 
of  analysis,  of  comparison  and  abstraction,  and  of  gen- 
eralization. The  formal  steps,  as  they  have  been  worked 
out  by  Herbart' s  followers,  usually  employ  these  terms 
in  place  of  clearness,  association,  and  system.  Appli- 
cation is  also  substituted  for  method.    Herbart's  schema 

1  Herbart,  op.  cit.,  p.  51;   English  trans.,  p.  128. 


THE   INDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  28; 

has  been  modified  in  other  respects,  but  mainly  in  the 
manner  of  amplification,  so  that  the  structure  of  the  de- 
velopment lesson  as  it  stands  to-day  follows,  in  the  main, 
Herbart's  original  outUne. 

The  principal  changes  may  be  briefly  noted.  Ziller^  recog- 
nized that  an  aggregate  is  not  made  up  entirely  of  perceptual 
material,  but  that,  connected  with  every  situation  that  we  face, 
we  have  certain  predispositions  with  which  experience  has  pro- 
vided us.  Therefore  the  aggregate  is  always  partially  percep- 
tual, partially  ideal.  Ziller  maintains  that  it  is  necessary  to 
discriminate  in  the  work  of  instruction  between  these  two 
phases.  He,  therefore,  divides  the  first  step  (clearness)  into 
two  parts  :  (i)  preparation,  which  is  concerned  with  the  work- 
ing of  old  experiences  to  which  the  new  are  related,  and 
(2)  presentation,  which  is  concerned  with  the  new  material. 

Rein^  adds  a  substep  which  he  calls  the  statement  of  the  aim, 
and  which,  according  to  his  view,  should  precede  the  step  of 
preparation.  There  are  good  reasons,  however,  for  placing  it 
at  the  close  of  the  first  step. 

The  structure  of  the  Herbartian  development  lesson, 
as  it  stands  to-day,  may  be  briefly  outlined  as  follows :  — 

First  Step      .  .  .  Preparation 

Substep      .  .  .  Statement  of  the  Aim 

Second  Step .  ,  .  Presentation 

Third  Step    .  .  .  Comparison  and  Abstraction 

Fourth  Step .  .  .  Generalization 

Fifth  Step     ,  .  .  Application 

1  T.  Ziller :  Grundlegung  zur  Lehre  vom  erziehenden  Unterricht,  Leip- 
rig,  1884;  see  C.  De  Garmo:  Her  bar  t  and  the  Herbartians,  New  York, 
1896,  pp.  103  fF. 

*  W.  Rein:   Outlines  of  Pedagogics,  Syracuse,  1895.     (English  trans.) 


288  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

The  numerous  books  treating  of  these  formal  steps  — 
especially  the  excellent  treatises  of  De  Garmo/  the  Mc- 
Murrys,^  and  Rein  ^  —  would  make  their  detailed  con- 
sideration superfluous  in  this  place.  We  shall  therefore 
limit  ourselves  to  a  brief  description  of  each  step,  attempt- 
ing especially  to  show  in  what  manner  its  structure  and 
function  are  related  to  the  principles  already  discussed. 

4.  (i)  The  Step  of  Preparation.  The  purpose  of  the 
preparation  is  to  revive  whatever  ideas  the  pupil  may 
already  have  in  his  possession  regarding  the  topic  to  be 
treated.  These  ideas  may  be  and  probably  are  more 
or  less  vague  and  inaccurate.  They  may  have  been 
gained  from  a  multitude  of  different  sources  —  from 
concrete  experience,  from  books,  from  the  conversation 
of  the  home,  from  previous  school  work.  Whatever 
their  character  or  source,  however,  the  only  condition 
that  they  must  fulfill  in  order  to  be  admitted  as  part  of 
the  preparation  is  this :  Are  they  pertinent  to  the  matter 
in  hand? 

It  follows  from  this  that  the  preparation  is  not  neces- 
sarily a  review  of  the  work  done  at  the  preceding  lesson; 
indeed,  it  may  include  material  that  has  never  been  men- 
tioned in  class  before.  From  the  standpoint  of  apper- 
ception, the  step  of  preparation  is  the  making  explicit  of 
all  apperceptive  systems  that  may  operate  in  assimilating 

^  C.  De  Garmo:  Essentials  of  Method,  Boston,  1889. 

*  C.  A.  and  F.  M.  McMurry :  Method  of  the  Recitation,  New  York,  1903. 

•  Rein,  op.  cii. 


THE    INDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  289 

the  new  experience.  It  attempts  to  give  the  pupil 
the  appropriate  attitude  or  adjustment  toward  the  new 
situation. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  the  lesson  has  for  its  object  the 
development  of  the  principle  that  vapor  condenses  with  a  fall 
of  temperature.  The  preparation  would  naturally  involve  the 
explicit  revival  of  those  experiences  that  the  pupil  has  had 
touching  this  phenomenon.  That  is,  he  has  had  certain  expe- 
riences in  which  the  phenomenon  was  implicit,  but  not  exphcit. 
He  has  seen  the  vapor  from  his  expired  breath  condense  upon 
the  window  pane.  He  has  seen  the  vapor  from  the  teakettle 
condense  on  reaching  the  cold  air.  If  he  lives  in  a  moun- 
tainous country,  he  has  seen  rain  or  snow  falling  upon  the 
mountains  when  it  did  not  fall  in  the  valley.  The  teacher  now 
directs  his  attention  to  these  experiences  without  telling  him, 
perhaps,  what  he  is  to  do  vdth  them. 

Or,  suppose  the  object  of  the  lesson  to  be  the  development 
of  the  definition  of  the  adverb.  The  preparation  in  this  case 
may  well  review  the  definitions  of  other  parts  of  speech  already 
studied,  with  especial  emphasis  upon  the  adjective  and  verb. 
If  the  concept  clause  is  to  be  developed,  the  stage  of  prepara- 
tion will  bring  again  to  the  pupil's  mind  the  concepts  simple 
modifier  and  phrase  modifier. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  dominant  method 
of  this  step  is  that  of  questions  and  answers.  The  teacher 
is  to  draw  out  the  desired  experiences  by  means  of  well- 
directed   questions   that   will   suggest   rather   than   tell. 

In  the  first  illustration  cited  above,  the  teacher  may  intro- 
duce the  lesson  somewhat  in  this  way :  "  What  happens  when 
you  blow  your  breath  against  a  cold  window  pane?    At  what 
other  times  have  you  seen  '  steam '  gather  on  window  panes  ? 
u 


290  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

Are  the  kitchen  windows  covered  with  steam  every  time  the 
washing  is  done?  On  what  kind  of  days  have  you  noticed 
that  this  doesn't  happen?  "  etc. 

For  the  development  of  the  adverb,  the  questions  will  prob- 
ably be  rather  more  formal.  For  example  :  "  Point  out  the 
verb  in  this  sentence.  Define  a  verb.  Point  out  the  adjec- 
tive. Why  is  it  an  adjective?  What  word  does  it  modify? 
What  do  you  mean  by  modify  t  " 

The  time  that  the  first  step  occupies  should  be  brief. 
The  tendency  of  the  teacher  is  generally  to  draw  it  out 
to  an  unjustifiable  duration.  A  general  rule  may  per- 
haps be  laid  dovv^n  that  the  step  of  preparation  should 
occupy  not  more  than  one  fifth  of  the  time  allotted  to  the 
entire  lesson.  This  rule  w^ould  not  hold,  of  course, 
if  the  development  were  entirely  concerned  v^ith  work- 
ing over  old  experiences.  A  development  lesson  of  the 
inductive  type  may  be  entirely  concerned  with  old  mate- 
rials, involving  the  presentation  of  no  new  matter  what- 
soever, and  the  object  being  to  "digest"  the  old  experiences 
and  recast  them  in  judgment  form.  In  such  cases,  the 
revival  of  the  old  experiences  may  well  occupy  a  much 
larger  fraction  of  the  recitation  period  than  has  just  been 
allotted. 

The  danger  to  be  guarded  against  is  wandering  from  the 
point.  In  all  forms  of  the  question-and-answer  method,  it  is 
easy  to  let  the  discussion  run  into  irrelevant  channels.  This  is 
a  doubly  serious  source  of  danger  where  the  pupils  do  not 
know  what  the  questions  are  leading  up  to,  as  is  the  case  in 
the  preparatory  step. 


THE   INDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  29 1 

5.  (i  a)  The  Statement  0}  the  Aim.  McMurry  ^  ha3 
the  following  to  say  in  discussing  the  function  of  the 
aim:  "A  good  aim  becomes  a  standard  both  to  the  chil- 
dren and  to  the  teacher  for  judging  the  worth  of  the 
contributions  by  the  former.  Since  this  first  step  is 
necessarily  conversational,  there  is  always  danger  that 
the  conversation  will  degenerate  into  a  conversation 
that  aims  at  nothing  and  accomphshes  nothing.  But 
when  all  are  conscious  of  a  fixed  aim,  reference  to  it  by 
the  teacher  or  pupils  will  determine  whether  or  not  a 
certain  thought  is  worth  their  attention." 

Our  conception  of  the  function  of  the  aim  differs 
sUghtly  from  that  of  McMurry.  The  step  of  prepara- 
tion makes  explicit  the  apperceptive  systems  that  are 
to  operate  in  assimilating  the  new  material.  The  aim 
should  show  the  need  of  the  new  material  jrom  the  pupWs 
standpoint.  Both  the  preparation  and  the  statement 
of  the  aim  combine  to  fulfill  the  conditions  of  appercep- 
tion. The  aim  really  forms  the  connecting  link  between 
the  old  and  the  new,  and  this  seems  to  indicate  that  the 
appropriate  place  for  it  is  at  the  end  of  the  preparatory 
step  rather  than  at  the  beginning.  Of  course  there  will 
be  exceptions  to  this  rule  in  practice.  It  may  sometimes 
be  expedient  to  state  the  aim  at  the  very  beginning  of 
the  lesson.  Especially  would  this  be  the  case  if  the 
lesson  is  concerned  with  working  up  old  materials  exclu- 
sively. 

*  McMurry,  op.  cit.,  p.  112. 


292  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

Put  in  another  way,  the  function  of  the  statemenl 
of  the  aim  may  be  said  to  be  twofold:  (i)  to  center  the 
minds  of  the  pupils  upon  the  problem  in  hand,  and 
(2)  to  arouse  their  "interest"  in  the  new  matter  to  be 
presented.  The  first  phase  demands  that  the  aim  be 
definite  and  pertinent.  It  should  state  as  clearly  as 
possible  the  point  that  the  lesson  is  intended  to  make. 
This  does  not  mean  that  the  conclusion  of  the  lesson  — 
the  generalization  —  is  to  be  stated  formally  as  the  aim. 
If  it  were,  it  would  be  meaningless  to  the  pupils.  The 
generalization  is  intrinsically  and  necessarily  an  abstract 
statement.  The  aim,  if  it  is  to  fulfill  the  second  condi- 
tion named  above,  must  be  concrete.  It  should,  as  has 
been  said,  relate  the  forthcoming  subject-matter  to  the 
needs  of  the  child ;  that  is,  it  should  seize  upon  some 
need  and  show  how  it  may  he  satisfied. 

For  example,  in  the  lesson  upon  the  condensation  of  vapor, 
it  may  be  assumed  that  the  preparatory,  informal  conversation 
concerning  various  well-known  phenomena  of  condensation 
will  have  aroused  in  the  pupils  a  curiosity  to  know  the  cause 
of  these  phenomena.  The  preparation  will  not  have  fulfilled 
its  function  if  some  such  result  has  not  been  gained.  The  aim 
should  then  be  so  stated  that  the  pupils  will  understand  that 
the  following  steps  are  leading  up  to  an  explanation  of  this 
thing  that  puzzles  them.  Thus  the  aim  may  take  some  such 
form  as  this,  "  To-day  we  shall  try  to  find  out  why  the  '  steam ' 
gathers  when  we  breathe  upon  a  cold  window  pane,  and  why 
the  *  steam  '  forms  at  the  mouth  of  the  tea-kettle." 

Similarly,  in  the  lesson  on  the  adverb,  the  preparation  should 
have  brought  out  the  facts  (i)  that  the  adjective  is  one  form  of 


THE    INDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  293 

modifier,  and  that  it  makes  clearer  the  meaning  of  the  noun  01 
pronoun,  and  (2)  that  no  method  of  making  dearer  the  meaning 
of  the  verb  has  yet  been  discussed.  "The  adjective  makes 
clearer  the  meaning  of  the  noun ;  is  there  a  class  of  words  that 
will  help  the  verb  in  a  similar  manner?  " 

McMurry  ^  very  properly  emphasizes  brevity  and 
attractiveness  as  essential  features  of  a  good  aim.  It 
goes  without  saying  that  a  long  and  involved  aim  defeats 
its  own  purpose  in  that  it  fails  to  concentrate  the  pupil's 
attention  and  arouse  his  interest.  For  the  same  reason, 
the  aim  should  be  attractive  and  couched  in  simple  and, 
as  far  as  possible,  non-technical  terms. 

6.  (2)  The  Step  of  Presentation.  The  purpose  of  the 
step  of  presentation  is  to  impart  the  new  experiences 
from  which  the  generalization  or  judgment  is  to  be  de- 
rived. These  may  be  either  concrete  experiences  from 
which  facts  are  to  be  discovered  and  then  worked  up 
into  generalizations,  or  they  may  be  particular  judg- 
ments —  facts  themselves  —  given  by  the  indirect  method. 

The  treatment  of  the  condensation  of  vapor  will  furnish  an 
illustration  of  the  former  type.  A  few  simple  experiments  may 
be  performed  in  class.  The  pupils  may  breathe  upon  warm 
and  cold  surfaces,  and  note  the  results.  They  may  watch  the 
boiling  of  a  kettle,  noting  the  fact  that  the  cloudiness  is  not 
apparent  until  the  steam  has  reached  a  certain  distance  be- 
yond the  spout.  They  may  note  the  gathering  of  moisture  on 
the  outer  surface  of  a  pitcher  of  ice  water.  In  general,  the  aim 
will  be  to  give  as  many  particular  instances  of  condensation 
as  possible,  and  to  arrange  the  examples  so  that  the  relation 
^  McMurry,  cp.  cit.,  pp.  109  f. 


294  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

between  the  fall  of  temperature  and  the  phenomenon  of 
condensation  will  be  readily  perceived.  Each  case  is  to  be 
observed  carefully  in  and  for  itself,  and  the  results  of  each 
observation  should  be  formulated  in  a  judgment  which  may, 
perhaps,  be  written  upon  the  blackboard.  This  should  be 
done,  at  any  rate,  whenever  the  number  of  particular  judg- 
ments is  large. 

In  the  lesson  on  adverbs,  the  facts  will  be  brought  out  by  a 
study  of  sentences  containing  adverbs.  In  such  a  procedure, 
each  sentence  becomes  a  center  for  observation,  just  as  the 
separate  experiments  were  in  the  former  illustration.  Either 
the  sentences  may  be  written  upon  the  blackboard  with  blank 
spaces  which  the  pupils  are  asked  to  fill  in  with  words  that 
make  the  meaning  of  the  verb  clearer,  or  the  teacher  may 
write  complete  sentences  containing  adverbs,  from  which  the 
pupils,  having  disposed  of  the  other  words,  may  be  led  to  see 
that  the  adverb  does  for  the  verb  what  the  adjective  does  for 
the  noun. 

Where  graphic  representations  —  pictures,  maps,  mod- 
els —  are  used  in  place  of  real  objects,  the  method 
does  not  materially  differ.  Thus,  in  the  study  of  geog- 
raphy, it  may  be  desired  to  build  up  the  judgment  that 
deltas  are  formed  at  the  mouths  of  rivers  entering  in- 
closed seas  or  gulfs  rather  than  at  the  mouths  of  rivers 
entering  the  open  ocean.  The  pupil  discovers  the  par- 
ticular facts  concerning  each  delta  from  the  map,  pre- 
cisely as  he  would  from  the  actual  situations  if  he  had 
the  opportunity.  From  a  series  of  pictures  representing 
types  of  different  races,  the  leading  physical  characteristics 
of  the  various  races  may  be  inductively  determined  just  as 
they  could  from  a  study  of  the  types  themselves.    The 


THE  INDUCTIVE  DEVELOPMENT  LESSON      295 

same  holds  for  such  development  work  as  the  determina- 
tion of  the  zones  by  use  of  models  representing  the  sun 
and  earth. 

In  all  these  cases  the  pupils  discover  the  facts  for 
themselves,  as  well  as  search  out  the  relations  between 
facts  upon  which  the  generalization  is  based.  In  the 
case  of  facts  that  are  given  indirectly,  the  step  of  presen- 
tation is  usually  concerned  with  the  imparting  of  such 
facts  either  by  a  lecture  or  through  the  text-book,  and 
their  illustration  by  as  many  concrete  references  as  pos- 
sible. In  the  case  of  the  text-book,  the  presentation 
is  usually  covered  in  the  "study  period."  In  such  an 
event,  the  preparation  and  the  statement  of  the  aim  are 
involved  in  the  assignment,  while  the  recitation  proper 
is  given  over  to  the  comparison  and  generahzation.  This 
type  of  lesson  is  frequently  employed  in  the  inductive 
study  of  history.  Here  the  pupils  become  acquainted 
with  the  facts  before  the  recitation  period,  and  this  period 
is  then  devoted  to  a  discussion  of  the  facts.  Thus  the 
preliminary  study  lesson  becomes  the  step  of  presentation 
in  the  development  lesson^ 

The  method  of  the  step  is,  therefore,  either  direct  or 
indirect,  according  as  the  facts  are  discovered  by  the 
pupil  himself  or  gained  indirectly  through  a  lecture, 
text-book,  or  some  other  medium  of  instruction.  In 
the  former  case,  there  is  still  something  of  the  indirect 
method,  for  the  attention  of  the  pupils  must  be  directed 
by  carefully  put  questions  to  the  points  that  are  espe- 


296  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

cially  to  be  observed;   and  some  things  will,  of  coursej 
be  told  outright. 

While  organization  is  obviously  the  factor  upon  which  one 
niuat  mainly  depend  in  all  forms  of  development  work,  the 
concrete  experiences  with  which  the  step  of  presentation  fre- 
quently deals  may  also  function  in  practical  judgment.  Hence, 
it  is  always  well  to  give  these  experiences  the  added  advantage 
of  vividness. 

The  time  to  be  allotted  to  this  step  varies  much  more 
than  in  the  step  of  preparation.  Where  the  presentation 
has  been  covered  by  the  previous  study  lesson,  it  is  neces- 
sary only  to  recall  the  facts  as  briefly  and  concisely  as 
possible.  When  concrete  materials  are  being  studied, 
however,  it  will  be  necessary  to  devote  a  large  fraction 
of  the  total  time  to  the  presentation  —  perhaps  in  some 
cases  as  much  as  one  half.  Obviously  this  step  should 
be  the  last  to  be  hurried.  Upon  the  wealth  and  vividness 
of  the  details  the  value  of  the  judgment  will  depend, 
and  to  hurry  over  the  presentation  will  be  simply  to 
encourage  hasty  and  inadequate  generalization. 

7.  (3)  The  Step  0}  Comparison  and  Abstraction.  This 
forms  the  important  transition  from  the  details  into 
which  the  aggregate  has  been  analyzed  to  the  recon- 
struction of  the  aggregate  in  the  judgment.  In  practice, 
the  step  of  comparison  frequently  fuses  with  the  step 
of  presentation,  inasmuch  as  attention  to  the  details 
can  hardly  fail  to  emphasize  the  points  of  resemblance 
and  difference.     Ordinarily,  however,  it  is  well  to  dis- 


THE    INDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  297 

criminate  between  the  two  steps  in  practice  as  well  as 
in  theory.  As  the  terms  sufficiently  indicate,  the  func- 
tion of  this  step  is  to  make  explicit  the  relations  which 
individual  facts  or  particular  experiences  bear  to  one 
another. 

In  the  lesson  on  the  condensation  of  vapor,  after  the  con- 
crete cases  have  been  presented,  the  facts  that  they  reveal 
must  be  compared  with  one  another.  If  the  individual  judg- 
ments have  been  placed  upon  the  blackboard,  these  may  be 
referred  to.  In  any  case,  questions  will  be  asked  to  bring 
out  the  salient  points  :  "  Do  we  find  that  breathing  on  a  win- 
dow pane  always  results  in  the  formation  of  *  steam '  ?  When 
does  it  and  when  does  it  not  ?  Where  does  the  water  come 
from  that  thus  forms  upon  the  pane  ?  Why  do  we  not  see  it 
ordinarily  in  the  expired  breath  ?  Are  there  any  cases  other 
than  those  that  we  have  described  in  which  it  becomes  visible  ? 
We  found  that  moisture  sometimes  forms  on  the  outside  of  a 
cold  pitcher ;  where  does  this  come  from  ?  Under  what  con- 
ditions does  it  appear  ?  Why  do  we  not  see  it  in  the  air  ordi- 
narily? Can  we  ever  see  it  in  the  air?  What  did  you  notice 
about  the  steam  that  came  from  the  kettle?  What  do  you 
think  it  looked  like  in  the  kettle  ?  If  it  was  not  cloudy  in  the 
kettle  and  did  not  become  cloudy  until  it  was  some  distance 
from  the  spout,  how  can  we  explain  the  cloudiness?"  Having 
brought  out  the  fact  that,  in  every  case,  the  invisible  moisture 
becomes  visible  only  when  the  temperature  falls,  the  relation 
may  be  made  even  more  explicit  by  one  or  two  general  ques- 
tions :  "  What,  then,  can  you  say  about  the  appearance  of 
moisture  in  all  these  cases  ?  Sum  up  the  results  of  our  study 
of  these  different  cases." 

The  step  of  comparison  in  the  lesson  on  adverbs  may  be 
similarly  conducted.  In  the  presentation,  attention  has  been 
called  to  a  new  class  of  words.     "  What  do  all  these  words  thai 


298  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

we  have  just  pointed  out  do?  Are  they  Uke  any  other  class  of 
words  that  we  have  studied  ?  How  ?  In  what  respect  do  they 
differ  from  adjectives?  Look  at  them  again;  in  what  respect 
does  the  first  one  help  the  verb?  the  second?"  and  so  on, — ■ 
the  examples  having  been  supplied  to  illustrate  place,  time,  and 
manner  of  action. 


It  will  be  noted  that  the  relations  are  to  be  sought, 
not  only  between  the  different  elements  of  the  new  mate- 
rial, but  also  between  the  new  and  the  old.  This  comes 
out  particularly  in  the  lesson  on  the  adverb.  In  the 
treatment  of  grammar,  the  procedure  is  steadily  pro- 
gressive, the  various  parts  of  speech  being  developed 
with  reference  to  one  another  and  working  together 
to  form  a  completed  whole,  the  sentence.  In  such  a 
case,  the  development  of  a  new  form  involves  a  great 
deal  of  contrast  and  comparison  with  forms  previously 
developed.  Adjectives  and  adverbs  can  be  explained 
only  by  nouns  and  verbs,  phrases  must  needs  be  related 
to  single  words,  etc. 

The  method  of  this  step  is  predominantly  direct,  the 
indirect  operating  as  before,  through  questions  and 
answers,  to  help  out  the  thought  processes  of  the  pupils. 
The  constant  aim  should  be  to  let  the  child  discover 
relations  as  far  as  possible  for  himself.  Each  relation 
should  come  to  him  with  the  full  force  of  a  fresh  and 
original  discovery. 

This  last  point  implies  that  the  time  allotted  to  this 
step  should  be  sufficient  to  insure  the  discovery  of  the 


THE   INDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  299 

relations  by  the  pupils  rather  than  their  revelation  by 
the  teacher.  This  suggests  the  danger  of  trying  to  ac- 
complish too  much  in  a  single  development.  Gener- 
ally speaking,  one  judgment  or  generahzation  is  all 
that  should  be  attempted,  and  even  this  may  have  to 
be  extended  over  two  or  three  periods,  —  to-day's  lesson 
being  devoted  to  the  preparation  and  presentation,  to- 
morrow's to  the  comparison  and  generalization;  but 
as  a  rule  this  splitting-up  of  the  development  should  be 
avoided  as  far  as  possible.  The  lesson  is  a  time  unity 
as  well  as  a  thought  unity,  and  any  breaking  up  of  the 
time  element  tends  to  disintegrate  the  thought.  If 
possible,  then,  the  various  steps  should  be  so  adjusted 
to  one  another  as  to  permit  the  completion  of  the  lesson 
in  a  single  period.  It  is  perhaps  well  to  make  the  presen- 
tation and  comparison  the  standards  of  division,  for 
these  steps  will  generally  require  the  largest  share  of  the 
period  —  sometimes  as  much  as  three  fourths,  sometimes 
even  more. 

8.  (4)  The  Step  of  Generalization.  This  step  covers 
the  formulation  of  the  judgment  as  a  definition,  rule, 
principle,  law,  or  proposition.  It  is  the  final  reconstruc- 
tion of  the  materials  of  the  original  aggregate,  —  the 
capstone  of  the  development  process.  According  as 
the  preliminary  steps  have  been  pursued  faithfully  or 
carelessly,  the  conclusion  will  be  natural  or  forced. 
The  ideal  lesson  will  take  the  pupils  so  gradually  through 
the   various  steps  that  they  will  reach  the  conclusion 


300  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

almost  before  they  are  aware  of  it.  The  generalization 
will  almost  formulate  itself. 

The  method  of  this  step  should  be  direct.  To  the 
pupil  belongs  the  right  of  formulating  the  judgment 
in  which  the  net  results  of  the  lesson  shall  be  summed 
up  ;  and  this  for  no  sentimental  reason,  but  because 
the  act  of  formulation  contributes  not  a  Httle  to  the  re- 
vival value  of  the  judgment.  It  will  be  difficult  to  get 
the  pupil  to  do  this  at  the  outset,  and  the  teacher  will 
be  strongly  tempted  to  make  the  generalization  for  him. 
But  here  as  elsewhere  patient  and  persistent  work  will 
tell  in  the  end.  For  a  long  time,  the  results  will  be  dis- 
couragingly  crude.  The  teacher  will  frequently  have 
to  reconstruct  the  language  before  the  judgment  can 
be  left.  But  the  effort  should  always  be  to  reduce  this 
interference  to  a  minimum. 

In  lorm  the  generalization  should  be  brief.  The 
greatest  economy  of  words  consistent  with  absolute 
clarity  of  meaning  should  be  the  objective  point.  The 
necessity  for  concreteness  and  simplicity  of  statement  is 
not  so  pronounced  here  as  in  the  aim.  If  technical  terms 
have  been  developed,  they  may  be  and  should  be  freely 
used.  The  virtue  of  a  technical  term  is  that  its  use  sub- 
serves economy  of  expression ;  being  unequivocal,  it  does 
not  require  a  host  of  explanatory  terms  to  make  its  mean- 
ing clear.  Care  should  be  taken,  however,  to  preserve 
simplicity  of  construction.  Three  or  four  short  sentences 
are  better  than  one  long  complex  or  compound  sentence. 


THE    INDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  3OI 

The  time  allotted  to  this  step  should  also  be  brief--  .y\ 
With  a  class  that  is  new  to  the  development  metTlf:^^^^^*'''"*' 
it  will  necessarily  be  longer  than  with  a  class  that  has 
had  some  drill  in  the  accurate  and   concise  forms  of 
thought  that  the  method  involves,  but  at  no  time  should 
the  step  cover  more  than  three  or  four  minutes.^ 

We  have  said  that  the  aim  should  show  the  pupil  the 
need  of  the  solution  which  the  succeeding  steps  attempt 
to  supply.  Consequently  the  generalization  should, 
in  a  measure,  be  an  answer  to  the  question  raised  in  the 
statement  of  the  aim. 

In  the  lesson  on  condensation,  the  aim  was  stated  in  this 
way,  "  To-day  we  shall  find  out  why  the  '  steam '  gathers  when 
we  breathe  upon  a  cold  window  pane,  and  why  the  cloud  of 
steam  forms  at  the  mouth  of  the  teakettle."  The  generaliza- 
tion of  this  lesson  might  be  expressed  in  this  way  :  "  Air  may 
contain  water  in  an  invisible  form  known  as  vapor.  When  the 
air  is  cooled,  the  water  becomes  visible,  forming  a  cloud  made 
up  of  a  large  number  of  minute  drops.  This  process  is  called 
condensation."  The  way  is  now  clear  for  another  lesson  on 
precipitation. 

In  the  development  of  the  adverb,  the  generalization  would 
take  the  form  of  a  definition,  "  An  adverb  is  a  word  used  to 
modify  a  verb  by  answering  one  of  the  questions.  How  ?  When  ? 
Where?"  A  later  lesson  could  then  expand  the  definition  to 
cover  the  modification  of  adjectives  and  other  adverbs. 

9.  (5)  The  Step  oj  ~ Application.  We  have  pointed 
out  that  the  generalization  represents  the  solution  of  an 

^  McMurry's  remarks  upon  this  point  are  exceptionally  good.  Op.  cit^ 
pp.  198  fi. 


k;i..M%. 


302  ;    ij  ;  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

(  ■ 

aggregate  and  the  reconstruction  of  its  materials  in 
judgment  form.  We  have  also  seen  that,  while  the 
judgment  represents  the  solution  of  a  present  aggregate, 
it  may  be  preserved  and  appHed  to  future  situations. 
This  process  is  begun  in  the  step  of  appUcation.  The 
rule,  or  the  law,  or  the  definition,  is  worked  back  to  par- 
ticular facts. 

In  the  lesson  on  condensation,  the  step  of  application  might 
well  be  devoted  to  an  explanation  of  certain  processes  of  con- 
densation not  noted  in  the  previous  steps,  —  the  formation  of 
clouds,  for  example.  This  would  fit  in  very  well  with  the  fol- 
lowing lesson  on  precipitation.  Indeed,  the  two  steps,  gener- 
alization and  application,  might  form  the  preparatory  step  of 
this  succeeding  lesson. 

In  the  case  of  the  adverb,  the  step  of  application  would 
naturally  concern  itself  with  the  identification  of  adverbs  in 
given  sentences.  This  in  turn  would  prepare  the  pupil  for  a 
succeeding  lesson  on  the  extension  of  the  definition  to  cover 
the  modification  of  adjectives  and  adverbs. 

In  arithmetic,  if  a  rule  has  been  developed  inductively,  the 
step  of  application  would  involve  the  working  of  problems 
coming  under  the  rule. 

It  will  be  readily  seen  that  the  time  to  be  occupied 
in  the  application  will  be  extremely  variable.  Gener- 
ally, perhaps,  the  entire  step  will  be  covered  by  seat 
work,  only  a  few  suggestions  and  hints  being  given  at 
the  close  of  the  recitation  periodc  Sometimes  an  entirely 
new  lesson  will  be  given  up  to  the  application.  This 
may,  in  itself,  become  a  development  lesson  of  the  deduc- 
tive  order.     Occasionally   the   step   of  application   wiD 


THE   INDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  303 

occupy  a  share  of  the  time  allotted  to  the  inductive  lesson 
proper.  It  is  safe  to  say,  however,  that  the  appUca- 
tion  in  some  form  should  always  follow  the  generaliza- 
tion. The  pupil  should  learn  from  the  start  that  knowl- 
edge as  it  exists  in  the  form  of  laws,  principles,  rules,  or 
definitions  is  utterly  valueless,  unless,  directly  or  in- 
directly, it  can  be  carried  over  into  the  field  of  practice. 

10.  One  truth  that  the  foregoing  discussion  reveals 
is  that  the  inductive  development  lesson  is  an  organic 
whole.  Each  of  the  formal  steps  has  its  specific  function 
to  fulfill  in  promoting  the  purpose  of  the  entire  lesson, 
just  as  each  organ  of  the  body  has  its  function  to  fulfill 
in  subserving  the  general  function  of  the  body  as  a  whole. 
In  the  hght  of  this  principle,  every  question,  every  state- 
ment that  the  lesson  involves,  should  form  an  integral 
part  of  the  unified  structure.  No  question  should  be 
asked,  no  statement  should  be  made,  merely  for  the  pur- 
pose of  filUng  in  time  or  reviewing  irrelevant  knowledge. 

And  just  as  each  step  and  each  division  of  each  step 
are  integral  parts  of  the  "lesson  unity,"  so  the  "lesson 
unity"  is  an  integral  part  of  the  unit  of  subject-matter. 
Condensation  and  precipitation  are  subdivisions  of  a 
broader  topic,  —  physiography.  Adverbs  and  adjectives 
are  integral  units  in  the  general  subject  of  grammar. 
The  task  of  the  teacher  is  so  to  arrange  the  subject- 
matter  that  the  lesson  unities  will  follow  one  another 
naturally,  and  so  lead  the  pupil  to  the  gradual  and  orderly 
unfolding  of  the  entire  subject. 


304  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

II.  But  not  all  the  laws,  principles,  and  definitions 
with  which  the  pupil  must  become  familiar  are  amenable 
to  treatment  by  the  inductive  method.  Many  must 
be  given  outright;  others  are  to  be  derived  deductively 
from  still  larger  principles.  The  error  of  the  Herbar- 
tians  ^  has  been  to  assume  that  the  formal  steps  repre- 
sent the  sum  total  of  the  technique  of  teaching.  Such 
an  assumption  is  both  illogical  and  impractical.  The 
inductive  development  lesson  has  but  a  limited  field  of 
application.  It  is  useful  in  the  development  of  some 
laws,  principles,  rules,  and  definitions  on  the  basis  of 
particular  facts.  But  some  lessons  have  to  do,  not  with 
rules  or  principles  or  definitions,  but  with  the  particular 
facts  themselves.  Other  lessons  have  to  do  with  moral 
and  aesthetic  truths  that  cannot  be  reduced  to  the  induc- 
tive form.  Still  others  have  to  do  with  the  formation  of 
habits  —  with  the  making  of  processes  automatic.  It 
is  safe  to  say  that  the  last-named  type  of  lesson  is  far 
more  important  in  the  actual  work  of  teaching,  especially 
in  the  elementary  grades,  than  either  the  inductive  or 
the  deductive  development  lesson. 

1  Cf.  Rein,  op.  cit.,  p.  187,  "Because  of  their  formal  nature,  the  formal 
steps  of  the  recitation  have  a  universal  application." 


CHAPTER  XX 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction: 
(b)  The  Deductive  Development  Lesson 

I.  The  inductive  development  lesson  is  concerned 
with  the  formation  of  principles,  definitions,  rules,  and 
laws  upon  the  basis  of  individual  facts.  The  deductive 
lesson  works  in  the  opposite  direction  —  from  principles 
back  to  facts  or  less  general  principles.  Its  function  is  either 
(a)  to  anticipate  experience  by  means  of  inferences  from 
general  principles,  or  (b)  to  explain  or  rationalize  partic- 
ular facts  upon  the  basis  of  general  principles.  In  the 
one  case,  it  looks  forward  to  the  solution  of  a  possible  situ- 
ation ;  in  the  other,  it  brings  particular  existing  situations 
under  the  realm  of  law,  representing  the  solution  of  an 
aggregate  by  the  apphcation  of  experience  in  the  form  of 
a  conceptual  judgment  which  has  previously  been  worked 
out  and  stored  away  for  just  such  an  occasion. 

The  deductive  lesson  is  typified  by  the  step  of  application 
in  the  inductive  lesson.  It  frequently  happens,  however,  that 
the  fact  to  be  explained  or  rationalized  does  not  present  itself 
at  the  time  that  the  principle  is  developed.  In  the  study  of 
geography,  for  example,  the  principles  governing  climate  are 
usually  developed  early  in  the  course  of  the  grammar  school. 
Throughout  the  remainder  of  the  course,  these  principles  are 

X  JOS 


306  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

being  constantly  applied  to  explain  the  climate  of  particulai 
regions.  In  arithmetic,  too,  principles  are  first  developed  on 
the  basis  of  particular  cases,  and  then  applied  to  a  multitude 
of  specific  problems. 

2.  The  form  of  the  deductive  lesson  has  not  been  worked 
out  so  thoroughly  as  that  of  the  inductive;  largely,  per- 
haps, because  the  latter  has  been  held  to  have  universal 
validity.  Nevertheless,  the  deductive  development  les- 
son merits  the  attention  of  the  student  of  method,  for, 
as  a  type,  it  is  probably  more  frequently  represented  in 
the  work  of  the  school  than  the  inductive  form. 

The  teaching  of  geography  in  the  upper  grades  might  be 
said  to  make  almost  exclusive  use  of  this  type  of  lesson.  In 
all  the  larger  text-books  there  is  an  introductory  treatment  of 
physiography,  designed  to  develop  principles  that  may  be  used 
later  in  deductive  lessons.  Take,  for  example,  the  treat- 
ment of  the  climate  of  the  Andes  region.  Under  the  old 
**  telling "  method,  one  or  two  paragraphs  would  cover  the 
climatic  conditions  of  the  entire  region.  This  would  be  "  set " 
as  a  lesson,  and  the  pupils  would  master  it,  usually  through  the 
factor  of  repetition.  Under  the  development  method,  on  the 
contrary,  the  pupils  are  led  to  apply  to  the  particular  region 
under  consideration  the  general  principles  of  climate,  and, 
upon  this  basis,  to  infer  what  its  climate  will  probably  be. 
Reference  is  then  made  to  the  text-book,  or  to  some  other 
source,  for  verification  of  the  inference.  If  a  discrepancy  is 
discovered,  it  will  be  clear  that  a  fallacy  has  crept  into  the 
process  of  inference,  and  the  problem  will  be  to  locate  this 
fallacy  and  reconstruct  the  argument  to  fit  the  facts. 

3.  This  method  of  deductive  development  will  take 
longer  than  the  "telling"  method,  but  it  will  possess  some 


THE    DEDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  30; 

important  advantages  over  the  latter,  (i)  It  introduces 
the  factor  of  organization;  the  detailed  facts  are  no 
longer  disconnected,  but  are  joined  together  in  a  rational 
system,  disclosing  causal  relations,  (2)  It  makes  mean- 
ingful the  principles  that  have  previously  been  mastered; 
if  these  principles  are  not  used  in  this  way,  it  has  been 
an  obvious  v^raste  of  time  to  develop  them,  (3)  It  sup- 
pHes  a  motive  for  searching  out  empirical  evidence  for 
the  inferences  made,  and  therefore  makes  intelligible  the 
use  of  text-book  and  source  materials.  (4)  It  brings 
into  the  service  of  education  the  "puzzle"  instinct;  this 
has  always  been  the  secret  of  the  pleasure  that  most 
pupils  take  in  the  work  of  arithmetic;  there  is  no  reason 
why  other  subjects  of  instruction  should  not  be  similarly 
benefited.  (5)  It  opens  the  way  —  reveals  tJie  need  — 
for  further  study  upon  the  same  basis. 

In  respect  of  the  last  point,  geography  may  again  be  cited 
as  an  example.  Climate  and  surface  determine  productions, 
productions  plus  location  and  facilities  for  communication  de- 
termine occupations,  occupations  plus  productions  and  surface 
features  determine  commerce,  commerce  determines  centers 
of  population.  Thus,  armed  with  a  few  general  principles,  the 
entire  geography  of  a  certain  region  may  be  developed  infer- 
entially  upon  the  basis  of  a  few  data,  most  of  which  may  be 
gathered  from  a  careful  inspection  of  the  map.  The  develop- 
ment of  each  new  topic  paves  the  way  for  the  next  —  creates  a 
need  for  the  next. 

(6)  Finally  this  deductive  process  amplifies  and  ex- 
tends the  inductive  process;   every  fresh  application  of 


308  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

a  principle  widens  its  scope  and  gives  it  a  still  firmel 
foundation;  in  fact,  insures  still  more  strongly  its  general 
validity. 

4.  There  are  two  types  of  the  deductive  development, 
each  corresponding  to  one  of  the  functions  mentioned 
above.  We  may  term  these  (i)  the  anticipatory  type, 
and  (2)  the  explanatory  type.  Each  type  presents  four 
phases,  corresponding,  in  a  degree,  to  the  formal  steps 
of  the  inductive  lesson:  (i)  the  data,  (2)  the  principles, 
(3)  the  inference  or  conclusion,  and  (4)  the  verification. 
We  shall  examine  these  briefly,  first  with  reference  to 
the  anticipatory  type. 

(i)  The  Data.  These  are  the  facts  with  which  we  start. 
Taking  the  lesson  on  the  climate  of  the  Andes  region  as  an 
example,  it  is  clear  that  a  study  of  the  map  will  reveal  certain 
salient  facts  concerning  the  position  and  extent  of  this  region 
which  may  be  brought  out  by  questioning :  What  is  the  gen- 
eral direction  of  the  Andes  system?  Between  what  parallels 
of  latitude?  What  zones  are  represented  in  this  extent? 
Where  is  the  highland  the  widest?  Approximately  how  wide 
at  this  point?  Where  narrowest?  Compare  the  eastern  and 
western  slopes.  Are  the  valleys  high  or  low?  Narrow  or 
broad?    What  do  we  term  a  high,  broad  valley? 

Having  completed  this  preliminary  map  study,  the  next  step 
will  be  to  impress  other  data  that  are  essential  to  a  study  of 
the  climate.  The  altitude  of  the  principal  ridges  and  plateaus 
may  be  told  by  the  teacher  or  gathered  from  text-books  or 
sources.  Having  these  various  fads  in  mind,  the  next  step 
will  be  to  review  the  — 

(2)  Principles.  What  four  general  conditions  govern  cli- 
mate?   (Latitude,  altitude,  distance  from  the  sea,  prevailing 


THE    DEDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  309 

winds.)  What  is  the  general  effect  of  latitude  upon  climate? 
Of  altitude?  In  what  ratio  does  increase  in  altitude  lower  the 
temperature?  (Approximately  3°  for  every  1000  feet.)  How 
does  the  neighborhood  of  large  bodies  of  water  affect  climate  ? 
Under  what  conditions?  What  are  the  prevailing  winds  in 
the  equatorial  region?  How  do  they  vary  with  the  seasons? 
What  are  the  prevailing  winds  in  the  temperate  zones?  How 
do  they  vary  with  the  seasons  ? 

(3)  The  Inference.  According  to  latitude,  what  climatic 
zones  would  you  expect  to  find  in  this  region?  How  will 
altitude  affect  these  conclusions?  If  the  temperature  at  the 
sea  level  on  the  equator  is  98°,  what  will  be  the  temperature  at 
an  altitude  of  10,000  feet?  20,000  feet?  5000  feet?  How 
high  are  the  plateaus  in  the  northern  Andes  ?  What,  then,  will 
be  their  climate,  according  to  latitude  and  altitude?  In  what 
respect  will  the  prevailing  winds  modify  the  temperature  of 
this  region?  etc. 

The  temperature  of  the  central  and  southern  portions  of  the 
region  may  then  be  inferred  from  similar  data.  Rainfall  will 
probably  be  left  for  another  lesson,  but  it  may  be  inferred  from 
an  application  of  the  same  principles. 

(4)  The  Verification.  The  inferences  having  been  placed  in 
tabular  form  upon  the  blackboard,  the  pupils  may  then  be 
encouraged  to  go  to  the  text-books,  encyclopedias,  and  other 
sources  for  empirical  evidence  that  will  support  or  controvert 
the  conclusions.  In  some  cases,  the  deductive  inferences  may 
be  found  not  to  tally  with  the  facts.  It  will  then  be  necessary 
to  search  out  the  causes  of  the  discrepancies.  When  all  dis- 
puted points  have  been  cleared  up,  the  tabulated  inferences 
may  be  modified  to  meet  the  facts,  and  recorded  in  permanent 
form  in  the  pupils'  note-books.^ 

1  The  writer  is  indebted  to  Miss  Ella  Pond  Leland,  Critic  Teacher  in 
the  Montana  State  Normal  College,  for  this  plan,  which  has  been  taken, 
practically  entire,  from  a  class  exercise  in  the  seventh  grade. 


310  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

Such  a  plan  for  a  development  lesson  is  obviously  amen" 
able  to  rather  wide  variation.  It  is  not  necessary  to  bring 
out  all  the  data,  or  all  the  principles,  at  one  time.  The 
influence  of  latitude  may  first  be  considered,  and  the  modi- 
fying influence  of  altitude  noted,  before  the  prevaihng 
winds  are  mentioned.  Temperature  may  be  treated  apart 
from  rainfall,  and  rainfall  reserved  for  a  separate  lesson. 
One  part  of  a  region  may  be  treated  as  a  unit  before  tak- 
ing up  other  parts.  But,  in  general,  the  procedure  will 
always  involve  these  four  stages.  Obviously,  too,  there 
will  be  a  certain  uniformity  in  the  order  in  which  topics 
are  taken  up.  It  would  be  illogical  to  treat  agricultural 
products  prior  to  a  treatment  of  cHmate,  because  agri- 
cultural products  depend  upon  cUmate. 

Other  lessons  of  this  type  are  represented  in  the  solution  of 
arithmetical  problems.  Here  we  have  a  statement  of  the 
problem  (data),  the  processes  governing  the  solution  (princi- 
ples), and  the  solution  itself  (inference).  Mathematical  deduc- 
tion differs  from  that  represented  in  the  lesson  on  geography, 
in  that  the  need  for  verification  does  not  exist,  —  except,  per- 
haps, in  the  form  of  a  reverse  process  (proof),  to  make  certain 
that  no  mechanical  errors  have  crept  in.  This  is  because 
mathematical  deductions  are  absolute.  Given  certain  condi- 
tions, certain  results  are  bound  to  follow.  In  the  geographical 
deductions,  certain  conditions  just  as  assuredly  give  rise  to  cer- 
tain results,  but  we  can  seldom  know  absolutely  that  all  modi- 
fying factors  have  been  accounted  for.  Hence  the  necessity 
for  verification  and  hence  the  danger  of  assuming  such  deduc- 
tions to  be  anything  more  than  very  probable  hypotheses  until 
they  have  been  verified  by  actual  observation. 


THE   DEDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  3II 

Objections  have  frequently  been  raised  to  the  applica 
tion  of  the  deductive  method  to  the  treatment  of  a  sub- 
ject Hke  geography.  One  may  say  that,  at  most,  we  can 
obtain  only  shrewd  guesswork  and  that  guesswork  is 
something  not  to  be  encouraged,  to  say  the  very  least. 
The  fallacy  of  this  position  lies  in  the  fact  that  "guess- 
ing" is  assumed  to  be  emphasized  in  the  deductive  lesson. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  not  the  guessing  that  is  made  to 
appear  important  in  the  eyes  of  the  pupil,  but  the  veri- 
fication. Nor  is  it  the  guessing  itself  that  is  dangerous, 
but  rather  the  failure  to  recognize  that  a  deductive  infer- 
ence is,  at  best,  only  a  guess.  One  can  do  no  better  in 
this  connection  than  to  bear  in  mind  the  words  of  Hux- 
ley,^ whose  mastery  of  scientific  method  can  never  be 
questioned:  "It  is  a  favorite  popular  delusion  that  the 
scientific  inquirer  is  under  a  sort  of  moral  obligation  to 
abstain  from  going  beyond  that  generalization  of  obsen^ed 
facts  which  is  absurdly  called  'Baconian'  induction. 
But  any  one  who  is  practically  acquainted  with  scientific 
work  is  aware  that  those  who  refuse  to  go  beyond  fact 
rarely  get  as  far  as  fact ;  and  any  one  who  has  studied 
the  history  of  science  knows  that  almost  every  great  step 
therein  has  been  made  by  'anticipation  of  nature,'  that 
is,  by  the  invention  of  hypotheses  which,  though  veri- 
fiable, often  had  Httle  foundation  to  start  with;  and  not 
unfrequently,  in  spite  of  a  long  career  of  usefulness, 
turned  out  to  be  wholly  erroneous  in  the  long  run." 

1  T.  H.  Huxley:  Methods  and  Results,  New  York,  1S96,  p.  62. 


312  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

5.  In  deductive  lessons  of  the  explanatory  type  the 
object  is  not  to  anticipate  facts  that  may  exist,  but  to 
explain  facts  that  do  exist.  Thus  in  geography,  the  facts 
that  are  presented  or  discovered  must  be  put  into  cohe- 
rent systems,  must  be  organized,  explained.  This  is 
sometimes  done  by  an  inductive  process,  but  more  fre- 
quently it  is  done  by  deduction  —  by  bringing  them  under 
the  operation  of  general  principles.  A  lesson  in  the 
analysis  of  sentences  is  a  deductive  lesson  of  the  explana- 
tory type.  The  facts,  the  data,  are  furnished  by  the  sen- 
tences. The  process  of  analysis  involves  an  explanation 
of  the  position  and  function  of  each  word. 

Consider,  for  example,  the  following  exercise:  "Hamilton 
and  Burr  fought  at  Weehawken," 

Kind  of  sentence ?     Simple.     Why? 

Subject?  Compound.  Why?  Name  the  subject.  Why 
do  the  words  named  form   the  subject? 

Name  the  predicate.  Why  does  the  word  named  form  the 
predicate? 

Modifiers  of  the  subject?     None. 

Modifiers  of  the  predicate?  Adverbial  prepositional  phrase. 
Why  a  modifier?    Why  prepositional  ?    Why  adverbial? 

Note  here  (i)  that  each  element  of  the  sentence  is 
brought  under  a  more  general  class  —  the  class  name 
is  applied  to  the  particular;  (2)  that  the  position  and 
function  of  each  element  are  explained  by  reference  to 
some  general  principle;  and  (3)  that  each  of  these  pro- 
cesses is  purely  deductive. 


THE    DEDUCTIVE    DEVELOPMENT    LESSON  313 

Geography  again  furnishes  some  excellent  examples  of  this 
type  of  deductive  lesson.  Assuming  that  the  essential  condi- 
tions of  a  good  wheat  country,  a  good  com  country,  a  good 
cotton  country,  etc.,  have  been  developed  by  a  careful  induc- 
tive study  of  types  in  the  United  States,  these  principles  may 
then  be  applied  to  the  explanation  of  wheat,  corn,  or  cotton 
belts  in  other  countries.  Thus  the  raising  of  wheat  in  European 
Russia  is  a  fact  that  may  well  merit  a  development  lesson  of 
the  explanatory  type. 

Data.  Wheat  is  grown  in  the  central  and  southern  portions 
of  European  Russia.     Let  us  see  why. 

Principles.  What  conditions  have  we  found  to  be  essential 
to  a  good  wheat  country? 

Climate  :  cool,  with  sufficient  but  not  too  much  moisture  — 
at  best  thirty  to  forty  inches  annually,  with  even  distribution. 
Hard  wheat  grown  only  in  cool  climates  with  fairly  vigorous 
winters. 

Soil :  fertile,  not  marshy,  not  exhausted.  Ground  fairly 
level,  for  convenience  in  harvesting. 

Other  conditions :  easy  transportation,  water  preferred  j 
land  relatively  cheap,  population  not  dense. 

Infe?-ence.  Then  if  Russia  is  a  good  wheat  country,  it  must 
fulfill  these  conditions. 

Verification.  Let  us  see  if  this  is  true.  What  is  the  climate 
of  central  and  southern  Russia?  What  is  the  nature  of  the 
soil?  What  can  you  find  out  about  the  rainfall?  What  means 
for  water  transportation?  What  conditions  would  render  land 
relatively  cheap?  etc. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  treatment  of  the  explanatory 
type  of  deductive  lesson  falls  into  the  same  subdivisions 
as  the  treatment  of  the  anticipatory  type.  In  the  lesson 
on  the  chmate  of  the  Andes  region,  we  started  with  par- 
ticular facts  of  altitude,  latitude,  prevailing  winds,  etc., 


314  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

and  inferred  what  the  climate  would  be.  Then  we  veri- 
fied our  inference  by  an  appeal  to  empirical  data.  In  the 
present  instance  it  is  as  though  we  started  with  the  par- 
ticular fact  that  the  climate  is  of  such  and  such  a  nature, 
and  then  explained  why  it  is  thus  by  reference  to  latitude, 
altitude,  etc.  In  either  case  the  lesson  is  deductive,  and 
in  either  case  there  are  distinct  divisions  between  the  four 
steps,  —  data,  principles,  inference,  and  verification. 

Good  examples  of  explanatory  lessons  are  furnished  by 
the  teaching  of  natural  science  in  the  high  schools.  In 
botany,  for  example,  the  principles  of  chemistry  and 
physics  are,  or  should  be,  called  upon  to  explain  the 
facts  of  plant  physiology.  Suppose  a  lesson  to  have  as 
its  subject-matter  the  upward  movement  of  sap  through 
the  root  and  stem  of  a  plant.  The  principles  of  osmosis 
and  capillary  attraction  are  at  once  suggested.  The  in- 
ference will  be  that  some  structure  of  the  plant  fulfills 
the  conditions  required  for  the  operation  of  these  princi- 
ples. Needless  to  say,  this  topic  may  also  be  approached 
inductively;  but  if  the  principles  of  osmosis  and  capil- 
larity have  already  been  developed  in  physics,  why  re- 
develop them  in  botany?  Here  is  a  fact:  the  movement 
of  a  liquid  in  opposition  to  the  law  of  gravitation.  What 
principles  have  we  discussed  that  will  cover  this  phe- 
nomenon? Under  what  conditions?  Then  we  must 
infer  that  these  conditions  must,  in  some  way,  be  ful- 
filled by  the  plant  structure.  Let  us  examine  the  struc- 
ture and  see  how  they  are  fulfilled. 


THE   DEDUCTIVE   DEVELOPMENT   LESSON  315 

6.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  development  lesson^ 
whether  of  the  deductive  or  inductive  type,  is  subject  to 
the  limitations  of  the  development  method  in  general. 
Broadly  speaking,  its  field  in  elementary  education  is 
limited  to  the  intermediate  and  higher  grades  —  one  may 
say,  approximately,  from  the  fifth  grade  up.  The  induc- 
tive lesson,  in  its  simpler  forms,  is  in  place  in  the  third 
and  fourth  grades,  as  well  as  in  the  upper  grades.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  both  inductive  and  deductive 
lessons  involve  reasoning  processes,  —  the  formation  of 
judgments  de  novo,  —  and  not  only  do  they  involve  rea- 
soning processes,  but  processes  of  logical  reasoning', 
that  is,  the  formation  of  judgments  upon  the  basis  of 
other  judgments.  Until  the  child  can  deal  readily  with 
condensed  experiences,  he  will  be  seriously  handicapped 
in  such  lessons.  The  primary  grades,  as  we  have  seen, 
are  the  field  of  concrete  experience  and  the  gradual  for- 
mation of  a  vocabulary.  They  are,  above  all,  the  field 
for  acquiring  an  initial  mastery  of  the  foremost  tool  of 
thought,  —  language. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction; 
(c)   THE  Study,  and  (d)  the  Recitation  Lesson 

1.  The  study  lesson  is  a  name  that  was  applied  by 
the  late  Professor  Hinsdale  ^  to  designate  the  mastery  by 
the  pupil  of  an  assigned  portion  of  a  text-book.  It  may 
be  the  step  of  presentation  in  the  inductive  development 
lesson,  or  the  step  of  verification  in  the  deductive  devel- 
opment lesson,  or  it  may  simply  be  an  exercise  in  which 
the  pupils  are  gaining  particular  or  conceptual  judgments 
from  the  printed  page.  In  any  case,  the  principles  that 
condition  the  successful  issue  of  the  lesson  are  the  same. 

2.  In  the  general  discussion  of  the  book  method  in  a 
former  chapter  ^  we  noted  some  of  the  difficulties  that  are 
always  involved  in  this  type  of  instruction.  In  the  pres- 
ent connection,  however,  only  two  of  these  need  be  con- 
sidered: (i)  the  difficulty  of  holding  the  attention  to  the 
printed  page,  of  emphasizing  the  salient  points,  and  of 
introducing  variety  into  the  monotony;  and  (2)  the  con- 
sequent mind-wandering  with  the  resulting  temptation  to 
make  up  for  lost  time  by  rote-learning  and  verbalizing. 

1  B.  a.  Hinsdale :  Arf  of  Study,  New  York,  1900,  ch.  ix. 
'  Ch.  xviii,  above. 

316 


STUDY   AND    RECITATION    LESSONS  317 

The  technique  of  the  study  lesson  must  aim  to  over- 
come these  difficulties.  The  first  is  the  more  fundamen- 
tal, for  rote-learning  grows  out  of  inadequate  appercep- 
tion, although  it  is  greatly  augmented  by  careless  teaching 
that  either  accepts  text-book  sentences  quite  undigested, 
or,  at  most,  is  satisfied  with  a  paraphrase  that  just  misses 
the  "words  of  the  book."  If,  however,  the  attention  of 
the  child  can  be  successfully  directed  to  the  content,  it 
is  probable  that  the  factor  of  verbalism  can  be  easily 
eliminated. 

3.  The  study  lesson  may  be  divided  into  two  func- 
tionally distinct  parts:  (i)  the  assignment,  and  (2)  the 
seat  work. 

(i)  The  Assignment.  This  is  a  preliminary  clearing 
of  the  road  before  the  seat  work  begins.  Ordinarily  it 
occupies  a  portion  of  the  time  devoted  to  the  previous 
recitation,  although  it  may  often  require  but  a  moment 
or  two  before  the  beginning  of  the  study  period.  Its 
function  is  similar  to  that  of  the  statement  of  the  aim  in 
the  inductive  development  lesson;  that  is,  it  should  re- 
late the  new  material  to  the  old,  and  reveal  a  need  for  the 
acquisition  of  the  new.  In  doing  this  it  will  often  be 
profitable  to  anticipate,  in  some  measure,  the  treatment 
that  the  book  represents.  The  acme  of  a  skillful  assign- 
ment is  reached  when  the  teacher  reveals  just  enough  of 
what  is  contained  in  the  lesson  to  stimulate  in  the  pupils 
the  desire  to  ascertain  the  rest  for  themselves.  Just  how 
much  this  shall  be  will  differ  in  different  subjects  and 


3l8  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

with  different  classes.  In  general,  the  assignment  will 
be  much  more  explicit  and  detailed  in  the  intermediate 
grades,  where  the  pupil  is  just  learning  to  use  text-books, 
than  in  the  upper  grades  and  the  high  school,  where  some 
familiarity  with  the  text-book  method  may  be  assumed. 
But  in  all  cases  the  assignment,  whether  it  be  brief  or 
full,  is  an  important  step  which  should  never  be  omitted. 

In  the  use  of  the  smaller  geography,  which  is  commonly 
the  first  book  to  be  employed  strictly  as  a  text,  the  assignment 
is  of  the  utmost  importance.  It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that, 
in  this  case,  all  the  material  of  the  text  should  be  carefully 
developed  orally  before  the  pupil  is  set  to  work  at  the  book. 
Even  an  adult's  mind  will  wander  when  he  attempts  to  read  a 
text  with  which  he  is  absolutely  unfamiHar  and  which  deals  with 
a  science  whose  technical  terms  mean  very  little  to  him.  It  is 
a  fallacy  to  think  that  a  preliminary  oral  development  will  cur- 
tail the  pupil's  interest  in  the  text  itself.  One  is  interested  in 
what  one  knows  about,  not  in  what  is  unknown.  Independence 
in  the  use  of  the  text  is  the  objective  point,  but  this  independ- 
ence cannot  come  at  the  outset. 

The  seat  work  preparatory  to  the  "  reading  "  exercise  forms 
an  illustration  of  the  study  lesson,  and  the  preparation  for  the 
seat  work  is  a  good  type  of  the  assignment.  During  the  first 
four  or  five  years  of  the  pupil's  school  life,  all  new  words  in  the 
reading  lesson  should  first  come  to  him  through  the  ear.  The 
printed  or  written  word  is  a  symbol  not  of  an  idea,  but  of  a 
spoken  word.  The  normal  process  of  interpretation  seems 
therefore  to  be  from  the  printed  word  to  the  spoken  word,  and 
thence  to  the  "  idea."  Hence  the  necessity  for  a  development 
of  all  new  words  prior  to  setting  the  child  at  work  on  the  read- 
ing lesson. 

For  this  development,  the  teacher  has  the  choice  of  several 


STUDY  AND  RECITATION  LESSONS        315 

methods  :  (i)  The  story  covered  by  the  lesson  may  be  told  to 
the  class  in  a  brief  form,  taking  care  to  introduce  new  words  in 
simple  and  familiar  connections,  writing  the  new  word  upon  the 
blackboard  at  the  time  it  is  uttered  so  that  the  pupils  may  be- 
come thoroughly  familiar  with  its  form.  (2)  If  the  "  thought " 
of  the  selection  is  familiar  to  the  pupils,  the  new  words  may  be 
developed  through  the  use  of  context  not  directly  connected 
with  that  of  the  selection  itself.  (3)  It  is  always  well  during 
the  assignment  to  bring  out  any  connection  that  may  be  ap- 
parent between  the  lesson  to  be  read  and  the  experience  of  the 
pupils.  If  the  lesson  is  one  upon  the  intelligence  of  horses, 
for  example,  a  period  or  portion  of  a  period  may  profitably  be 
spent  in  a  conversation  lesson,  aiming  to  draw  out  the  experi- 
ence of  the  children  with  respect  to  horses,  the  points  that  they 
have  noted  concerning  the  horse's  intelligence,  etc.  During 
this  discussion  the  new  words  may  be  introduced  by  the  teacher 
—  suggested,  perhaps,  in  place  of  a  word  which  the  child  has 
used  and  which  may  be  less  effective  than  the  new  word. 
(4)  In  the  case  of  masterpieces  of  literature,  and  especially  in 
the  case  of  poetry,  very  little  attempt  should  be  made  to  de- 
velop the  thought  and  the  new  words  through  a  paraphrase. 
It  will  be  much  better  to  read  (or,  still  better,  to  recite)  the 
poem  to  the  class,  pointing  out  the  difficult  words  and  clear- 
ing up  by  explanations  the  more  obscure  passages. 

At  the  close  of  the  assignment,  every  pupil  should  be  able 
to  recognize  the  words  just  developed  at  sight  and  to  give  the 
main  points  in  the  thought  development. 

4.  (2)  The  Seat  Work.  This  phase  of  schoolroom 
activity  —  or  inactivity  —  is  beyond  doubt  responsible  for 
much  more  than  half  of  the  serious  waste  of  time  that 
our  American  system  involves.  The  time  spent  by  the 
average  child  in  "preparing  lessons"  is  very  largely  time 
thrown  away.    The  German  schools  do  away  with  this 


320  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

source  of  waste  by  eliminating  the  text-book,  but  undel 
American  conditions  it  is  impossible  to  adopt  this  rem- 
edy.  A  large  proportion  of  our  teachers  are  necessarily 
to  be  classed  as  "undertrained."  They  remain  in  the 
"profession"  but  a  few  years,  and  they  commonly  have 
but  an  inadequate  preparation  on  which  to  start.  They 
are  forced  to  depend  upon  text-books,  consequently  the 
use  of  text-books  must  be  adapted  to  the  conditions  that 
prevail.  The  preliminary  oral  development  suggested 
in  connection  with  the  assignment  is  somewhat  of  a  com- 
promise between  the  German  and  American  methods. 

5.  But  even  a  skillful  assignment  will  not  always  op- 
erate to  prevent  waste  of  time  through  inattention.  In 
the  beginning,  it  is  necessary  every  now  and  again  to 
direct  the  pupils'  attention  to  the  salient  points.  This 
is  best  accomplished  by  means  of  suggestive  questions 
which  may  be  written  upon  the  blackboard  as  a  guide 
to  the  text.  The  pupils  at  their  seats  will  read  the  ques- 
tions and  note  the  answers  that  are  to  be  found  in  the 
book.  The  recitation  may  then  be  based  upon  these 
written  questions,  although  the  latter  should  be  sup- 
plemented by  others  of  a  more  detailed  nature.  After 
some  practice  of  this  sort,  the  pupils  may  be  encouraged 
to  make  out  lists  of  questions  for  themselves,  covering 
the  matter  given  in  the  text.  This  may  be  rendered  even 
more  effective  by  permitting  the  child  having  the  best 
list  of  questions  to  "quiz"  the  class  —  to  turn  teacher 
for  the  time  being.    Needless  to  say,  this  device  must 


STUDY   AND    RECITATION    LESSONS  321 

not  be  carried  too  far,  for  the  questions  asked  by  the 
pupils  will  inevitably  emphasize  the  minor  and  less  con- 
sequential points,  rather  than  the  larger  thought  rela- 
tions. It  is  valuable,  however,  when  used  temperately, 
for  it  enlists  the  powerful  services  of  the  instinct  of  emu- 
lation. The  task  of  the  teacher,  reduced  to  lowest  terms, 
is  to  give  the  pupil  a  motive,  to  show  him  a  need,  for 
tracing  out  thought  connections.  Almost  anything  that 
will  subserve  this  end  is  a  legitimate  implement  to  em- 
ploy, if  it  is  not  overdone. 

6.  After  some  degree  of  proficiency  has  been  gained 
in  seeking  out  answers  to  questions,  these  may  be  re- 
placed by  topical  outlines,  which  may,  in  turn,  serve  as 
a  basis  for  recitation  work;  instead  of  answering  a  given 
question,  the  pupil  may  "recite"  upon  a  given  topic. 

7.  With  practice  in  study  by  the  topical  outUne,  the 
pupil  may  gradually  pass  to  the  stage  of  making  an  out- 
line for  himself.  This  is  an  art  to  which  too  little  atten- 
tion is  now  paid  in  the  schools.  If  the  child  acquires 
what  might  be  termed  the  "outlining  habit"  early  in  life, 
he  will  in  course  of  time  acquire  the  abihty  to  make  a 
serviceable  outline  without  resorting  to  pencil  and  paper 
—  holding  his  attention  over  a  long  series  of  topics  with- 
out undue  exertion.  When  he  has  mastered  this  art,  he 
has  mastered  the  art  of  reading.  The  chances  are  that 
he  will  no  longer  read,  —  as  many  of  us  do,  even  in 
adult  years,  —  following  the  words  faithfully  with  the 
eye,  while  the  wits  go  "wool-gathering."    Such  a  mas- 


322  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

tery  of  reading  involves,  of  course,  a  great  deal  of  hard 
work,  and  the  road  has  to  be  traversed  anew  for  every 
subject  that  is  taken  up;  for  we  cannot  think  of  a  gen- 
eralized habit  of  study  any  more  than  we  can  think  of  a 
generalized  habit  of  neatness  or  industry.  But  we  may 
have  ideals  as  to  the  best  methods  of  study,  and  these  can 
be  developed  and  sustained  only  by  persistent  practice 
in  various  fields. 

It  is,  of  course,  possible  to  give  the  pupil  unnecessary 
help  in  the  study  lesson  and  thus  to  involve  one's  self  in 
the  same  danger  that  was  noted  in  connection  with  objec- 
tive teaching.  But  the  marked  inefficiency  of  this  work  in 
nearly  every  school  at  the  present  time  seems  to  indicate 
that  the  danger  point  has  not  yet  been  reached.^ 

Professor  Hinsdale,  in  the  chapter  just  referred  to,  gives 
some  excellent  advice  concerning  the  assignment.  He  calls 
attention  especially  to  the  necessity  on  the  teacher's  part  to 
see  to  it  that  the  text  assigned  is  within  the  grasp  of  the  pupil ; 
that  the  book  selected  is  suitable  to  the  age  and  attainments  of 
those  for  whom  it  is  intended ;  that  difficult  points  be  cleared 
up  by  oral  development ;  and  that  the  material  of  the  book  be 
carefully  worked  over  by  the  teacher  beforehand  and  cut  up 
into  lessons :  not  by  so  many  lines  or  pages  or  paragraphs  or 
chapters,  but  by  sections  of  equal  difficulty  and  importance. 

8.  The  Recitation  Lesson.  The  recitation  lesson  com- 
monly follows  the  study  lesson  and  has  for  its  objects. 

*  "  At  least  three  fourths  of  all  the  time  spent  by  a  boy  of  twelve  in 
trying  to  learn  a  hard  lesson  out  of  a  book  is  time  thrown  away."  —  G.  S. 
Hall:  Methods  of  Teaching  History,  Boston,  1885,  p.  206. 


STUDY    AND    RECITATION   LESSONS  323 

(i)  the  reporting  to  the  teacher  by  the  pupils  of  the  facts 
gained  in  the  study  lesson;  (2)  the  clearing  up  of  obscure 
and  difficult  points  by  the  teacher;  (3)  the  concrete 
illustration  of  details;  (4)  the  amplification  of  the  text- 
book materials  by  supplementary  matter  ;  and  (5)  the 
bringing  together  and  summing-up  of  the  net  results 
of  the  study  in  a  clear  and  systematic  manner.  We 
shall  not  include  under  the  term  "recitation  lesson" 
the  class  exercise  that  has  already  been  discussed  as 
the  development  lesson.  Many  exercises  are  given  over 
simply  to  the  impressing  of  facts  as  such,  rather  than  to 
the  development  of  principles  upon  the  basis  of  facts 
or  the  explanation  of  facts  by  reference  to  principles. 
The  recitation  lesson,  as  the  term  is  used  here,  compre- 
hends only  the  first  of  these  processes.  This  type  of 
lesson  is  met  with  in  all  departments  of  education,  but 
most  frequently,  perhaps,  in  the  intermediate  and  gram- 
mar grades. 

9.  The  recitation  lesson  takes  two  general  forms: 
(i)  the  question-and-answer  recitation,  and  (2)  the 
topical  recitation. 

(i)  The  question-and-answer  recitation  is  the  more 
elementary  form,  inasmuch  as  the  pupil's  responsibility 
for  the  materials  of  the  text  is  limited  to  detailed  facts, 
which  are  recalled  in  response  to  the  teacher's  questions. 
Thus  the  task  of  keeping  in  mind  the  connection  between 
details,  which  is  the  chief  difl&culty  in  the  topical  recita- 
tion, is  not  imposed  upon  the  pupil.    All  that  he  is  asked 


324  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

to  do  is  to  remember  separate  facts  and  to  reproduce 
each  of  them  in  turn  when  the  cue  is  given. 

lo.  The  art  of  questioning  is  an  important  factor  in 
this  type  of  lesson.  While  this  art  can  be  acquired 
only  by  persistent  and  painstaking  practice,  a  number 
of  helpful  suggestions  may  be  obtained  by  a  study  of 
questions  both  good  and  bad,  and  by  a  careful  considera- 
tion of  the  principles  which  condition  successful  ques- 
tioning. Professor  De  Garmo's  recent  treatment  ^  of 
this  general  subject  is  especially  rich  in  concrete  illus- 
trations which  will  repay  careful  study. 

For  the  specific  purposes  of  the  question-and-answer 
recitation,  the  following  principles  and  suggestions  may 
be  helpful :  — 

(a)  The  function  of  the  question  in  this  type  of  lesson 
is  to  direct  attention  to  the  salient  features  of  the  text. 
That  it  may  not  distract  the  attention  from  essential 
to  non-essential  points,  the  question  should  be  (i)  defi- 
nite, that  is,  limited  to  a  particular  fact  that  the  lesson 
brings  out;  and  (2)  unequivocal,  that  is,  admitting 
but  one  correct  answer. 

(b)  The  question  should  be  so  framed  that  the  answer 
will  fulfill,  as  far  as  possible,  the  conditions  of  efficient 
recall.  This  demands  that  the  question  should,  as  a 
rule,  demand  an  answer  in  judgment  form,  for  the  clear 
formulation   of  experience   in   judgment   is   a   powerful 

1  Charles  De  Garmo :  Interest  and  Education,  New  York,  1903,  pp. 
181  ff. 


STUDY    AND    RECITATION    LESSONS  325 

factor  In  promoting  retention  and  recall.  For  this  rea- 
son, questions  are  to  be  avoided  that  (i)  imply  the  answer 
("leading  questions"),  (2)  permit  of  answer  by  "yes" 
or  "no,"  or  (3)  can  be  answered  with  single  words. 
(2)  and  (3)  are  subject  to  many  quaKfications,  and  are 
not  to  be  followed  dogmatically.  "  It  is  pedantry  ...  to 
banish  all  questions  that  can  be  answered  by  yes  and 
no.  We  need  only  to  be  sure  that  suflScient  reason  fol- 
lows or  sufficient  experience  precedes  the  answer.  In 
other  words,  the  yes  or  no  should  not  be  a  fortunate  or 
unfortunate  guess."  -^ 

(c)  There  is  great  danger  that  the  recitation  lesson  will 
involve  almost  as  serious  a  waste  of  time  as  the  study 
lesson  in  that  only  the  pupil  who  is  "reciting"  will  be 
attentive.  For  this  reason  it  is  good  practice  not  to  call 
upon  a  given  pupil  to  recite  until  the  question  has  been 
"put"  to  the  entire  class.  For  the  same  reason,  it  is 
well  to  avoid  a  uniform  order  or  sequence,  alphabetical 
or  otherwise,  in  which  pupils  are  tailed  upon.  It  may 
be  well  occasionally  to  call  upon  the  same  pupil  two  or 
three  times  during  a  single  recitation,  even  if  all  the 
others  do  not  have  an  opportunity  to  recite.  Otherwise 
a  pupil  who  has  finished  his  recitation  may  be  tempted 
to  "rest  on  his  laurels"  and  permit  his  wits  to  go  wool- 
gathering during  the  remainder  of  the  exercise.  It  is 
also  generally  recognized  as  poor  practice  for  a  teacher 
to  repeat  an  answer  that  a  pupil  gives.     This  encourages 

1  De  Garmo,  op.  cit.,  p.  194. 


326  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

slovenly  and  inarticulate  answers.  The  class  should 
be  required  to  depend  upon  the  pupil  reciting  for  the 
answer  to  the  question,  and  for  the  preservation  of  order 
and  sequence  if  the  recitation  is  topical. 

(d)  Everything  that  might,  in  any  way,  interfere  with 
the  concentration  of  attention  upon  the  matter  in  hand 
must  be  ehminated  or  reduced  to  a  minimum.  Hence 
the  "marking"  of  the  pupil  after  each  individual  reci- 
tation is  to  be  looked  upon  as  bad  practice;  if  this  is 
done,  it  should  be  at  the  close  of  the  recitation  period. 

(e)  If  the  question,  as  put  by  the  teacher,  seems  to 
puzzle  the  class  unduly,  it  is  permissible  to  recast  it  in 
another  form,  but  this  should  not  occur  frequently.  The 
habit  of  asking  the  same  question  in  a  half-dozen  dif- 
ferent ways  is  sure  to  confuse  and  distract. 

II.  (2)  The  Topical  Recitation.  The  problem  of  the 
topical  lesson  is  to  lead  the  pupil  to  give  out  the  substance 
of  the  material  acquired  from  the  book,  with  a  minimum 
of  questioning  on  the  part  of  the  teacher.  The  mate- 
rials are  worked  over  in  the  child's  mind  —  apperceived 
—  and  expressed  in  the  form  of  simple,  factual  judg- 
ments following  logically  upon  one  another.  The  more 
independent  the  pupil  is  in  this  process,  the  greater  will 
be  the  value  of  the  lesson.  Needless  to  say,  however, 
this  capacity  does  not  come  to  the  child  at  once.  Indeed 
its  development  is  one  of  the  most  difl&cult  tasks  that  the 
elementary  school  involves.  It  is  perhaps  best  worked 
up  through  the  method  suggested  in  discussing  the  as- 


STUDY   AND    RECITATION    LESSONS  327 

signment,  passing  gradually  from  detailed  questions  to 
"sketchy"  questions,  and  from  these  to  rather  detailed 
outHnes;  thence  by  easy  stages  to  schematic  outlines. 
If  the  recitation  follows  this  order  of  growth  in  the  assign- 
ment, the  pupil  should  be  able  to  give  a  satisfactory 
account  of  himself  by  the  topical  method  in  the  latter 
half  of  the  fifth  school  year.  But  the  transition  from 
the  question-and-answer  to  the  topical  recitation  need 
not  be  a  formal  afifair.  The  questions  may  be  so  framed 
that  they  will  require  answers  increasingly  comprehen- 
sive until  they  finally  pass  over  into  the  mere  statement 
of  the  topic 


CHAPTER  XXII 

Typical  Forms  of  Development  and  Instruction: 
(e)  THE  Drill,  (/)  the  Review,  and  (g)  the  Exami- 
nation Lessons 

1.  The  Drill  Lesson.  The  purpose  of  the  drill  lesson 
is  to  insure  the  functioning  of  experience  as  habit.  Con- 
sequently the  technique  of  the  drill  lesson  is  strictly 
conditioned  by  the  principle  of  habit- forming :  focaliza- 
tion  and  repetition  in  attention.  The  chief  source  of 
danger  in  this  type  of  lesson  is  to  overlook  the  impli- 
cations of  this  fundamental  law. 

Exercises  in  spelling  and  writing,  for  example,  are  com- 
monly placed  at  the  most  unfavorable  periods  of  the  day  — 
just  before  noon  or  just  prior  to  the  close  of  the  afternoon 
session,  when  attention  is  at  a  very  low  ebb.  In  the  inter- 
mediate grades,  at  least,  all  drill  lessons  —  including  writing, 
spelling,  basal  reading,  drill  arithmetic,  etc.  —  should  be  given 
very  favorable  periods. 

2.  The  necessity  of  preliminary  focalization  implies 
that  a  part  of  each  drill  lesson  should  be  given  over  to 
an  explanation  and  demonstration  of  the  process  to  be 
automatized.  The  lessons  in  writing  and  spelling  should 
be  as  thoroughly  unified  and  as  systematically  organized 
as  the  development  lessons  in  geography  and  grammar. 
They  should  concentrate  upon  one  thing  at  a  time  and 

12$ 


DRILLS,    REVIEWS,    AND    EXAMINATIONS  329 

carry  that  through  to  a  successful  issue.  It  is  common 
to  look  upon  exercises  in  writing  and  spelling  particu- 
larly as  "rest  periods"  for  the  teacher.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  his  direction  and  guidance  are  at  no  time  more 
important. 

In  writing,  for  example,  the  structure  of  the  capital  D  may 
form  the  central  feature  of  one  lesson ;  the  connection  of  D 
with  following  letters,  the  subject  of  the  next,  and  so  on.  In 
any  case,  the  main  topic  should  be  talked  over  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  exercise,  the  difficulties  explained,  and  a  demon- 
stration given  by  the  teacher  in  the  construction  of  the  approved 
form.  Then  the  class  should  practice  attentively,  not  mechani- 
cally, under  the  teacher's  constant  criticism,  until  the  correct 
adjustment  is  automatized. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  spelling  lesson.  Each  exercise 
should  be  a  unity,  dealing  with  some  particular  point  —  some 
rule,  perhaps,  or  some  combination  that  has  been  found  to  be 
a  stumbling-block  to  many  members  of  the  class :  the  ie  and 
ei  combinations,  or  principal  and  principle.  These  should  be 
focalized,  talked  about,  and  drilled  upon  until  the  correct 
forms  flow  from  the  pen  without  conscious  effort. 

The  exercise  in  oral  reading  forms  one  of  the  best  examples 
of  the  drill  lesson,  particularly  in  the  "  basal "  reading,  the  very 
essence  of  which  is  drill.  Here  the  appropriate  posture  of  the 
pupil  demands  attention ;  it  is  not  much  more  difficult  for  the 
child  to  acquire  habits  of  correct  posture  than  it  is  to  acquire 
habits  of  incorrect  posture,  but  it  means  a  serious  and  unremit- 
ting eflfort  on  the  part  of  the  teacher  for  a  long  time.  The 
"basal"  reading  lesson  is  also  the  best  medium  for  fixing 
habits  of  good  articulation :  the  mumbling  of  words,  talking 
"in  the  throat,"  cHpping  final  consonants  and  even  syllables, 
are  all  lines  of  least  resistance.  But  the  main  object  of 
the  basal  reading  lesson  is  drill  in  the  ready  recognition  and 


330  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

proper  pronunciation  of  words.  Here  there  is  nothing,  in  the 
writer's  opinion,  that  equals  in  efficiency  the  "  old-fashioned  " 
repetition  of  the  reading  selection  until  perfect  mastery  is 
attained. 

3.  In  all  forms  of  the  drill  lesson,  the  factor  of  focali- 
zation  implies  that  the  conditions  of  apperception  should 
be  fulfilled  so  far  as  possible.  The  pupil  should  see  the 
need  of  correct  forms,  and  this  should  give  him  the  motive 
for  repetition. 

But  even  when  the  pupi!  perceives  a  distinct  need  for 
making  a  process  automatic,  the  monotony  that  the 
necessary  repetition  involves  may  effectually  discourage 
him  from  the  task.  It  will  frequently  happen  that  noth- 
ing short  of  an  arbitrary  command,  backed  up,  if  need 
be,  with  appropriate  compulsion,  will  keep  the  pupil 
returning  to  the  task  until  it  has  been  completed.  This 
necessity  may  sometimes  be  averted  by  an  intelligent 
use  of  devices  that  will  serve  to  introduce  a  superficial 
variety  and  at  the  same  time  preserve  the  essential  ad- 
justments that  are  being  automatized.  In  arithmetic, 
for  example,  the  device  commonly  employed  is  the  solu- 
tion of  problems,  which  appeals  to  the  "puzzle  instinct," 
so  potent  in  children  up  to  the  age  of  adolescence.^ 
Devices  that  appeal  to  the  instinct  of  emulation  are  also 
profitably  employed  in  arithmetic  and  spelling  (as  exem- 
plified in  the  old-time,  but  still   serviceable,  "spelling 

1  Cf.  E.  H.  Lindley:  "A  Study  of  Puzzles,"  in  American  Journal  of 
Psychology,  voL  viii,  pp.  431  ff. 


DRILLS,    REVIEWS,    AND   EXAMINATIONS  33 1 

matches").  The  exhibition  of  good  work  is  another 
device  that  is  commonly  employed  in  writing,  drawing, 
and  manual  training. 

Two  very  serious  dangers  are  involved  in  the  use  of 
devices,  (a)  The  average  teacher,  finding  a  device 
successful,  is  almost  certain  to  overwork  it  —  to  carry 
it  so  far  that  it  defeats  its  own  purpose.  The  device  is, 
at  best,  only  a  means  to  an  end,  and  the  effort  must  always 
be  to  keep  the  end  distinctly  in  view,  and  not  to  permit 
the  device  to  become  paramount  in  the  minds  of  either 
teacher  or  pupils.  In  some  schools,  for  example,  emu- 
lation is  carried  to  a  dangerous  extreme.  The  marks  or 
grades  are  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  of  the  pupil's  effort. 
In  other  schools,  it  is  the  exhibition  of  ''good"  work 
or  showy  results  that  is  the  objective  point  of  all  teach- 
ing and  learning.  To  make  these  things  (which  are 
excellent  as  devices)  ends  in  themselves  is  to  obscure 
the  true  purpose  and  to  distort  the  normal  process  of 
education. 

(b)  The  danger  that  the  child  will  come  to  depend 
exclusively  upon  the  factor  of  interest  need  not  again  be 
reverted  to;  it  may  suffice  to  say  here  that  if  the  pupil 
does  not  sometimes  find  his  school  work  disagreeable, 
then  something  is  radically  wrong  either  with  the  pupil 
or  with  the  school  or  with  both. 

4.  The  Review  Lesson.  The  function  of  the  review 
lesson  is  to  gather  up  the  points  that  have  been  made 
in  a  series  of  development  or  recitation  lessons,  and  thus 


332  THE    EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

(a)  still  further  organize  the  facts  and  principles  into 
large  systems,  and  (b)  give  these  facts  and  principles 
the  advantage  of  additional  repetition.  In  the  indi- 
vidual lessons  that  have  preceded  the  review,  the  atten- 
tion has  been  upon  the  various  parts  of  the  subject- 
matter  rather  than  upon  the  connections  and  relations 
that  hold  the  parts  together.  In  the  review  lesson,  the 
emphasis  is  transferred  to  the  larger  relations  and  thought 
connections. 

5.  It  follows  from  this  that  the  review  lesson  properly 
covers  a  series  of  particular  points  that  naturally  unite 
into  a  system  or  group.  Thus  in  geography,  a  review 
lesson  is  in  place  after  a  physiographical  unit  —  a  con- 
tinent, or  a  large  river  basin,  or  a  mountain  system  — 
has  been  treated  intensively.  A  series  of  review  lessons 
is  also  very  obviously  in  place  at  the  close  of  a  long  course 
in  which  the  threads  of  unity  are  likely  to  be  lost  from 
view  in  the  wealth  of  detail.  It  is  hardly  too  much  to 
say  that  every  subject  of  the  curriculum  should  be  thus 
brought  to  a  focus  in  a  comprehensive  and  thorough 
review. 

6.  Little  need  be  said  concerning  the  technique  of  the 
review  lesson.  The  topical  outline  is  eminently  in  place 
here,  and  the  aim  should  be  to  have  the  larger  headings 
kept  in  mind  rather  than  presented  in  written  form. 
These  outlines  will  also  be  more  valuable  if  they  are  made 
Qut  by  the  pupil  himself,  but  in  such  cases  they  should 
Certainly  be  worked  over  in  class  in  order  that  the  teacher 


DRILLS,    REVIEWS,    AND    EXAMINATIONS  333 

may  be  sure  that  all  points  have  been  adequately  cov- 
ered, and  that  the  outhne  is  comprehensive  and  syste- 
matic. After  the  subject  has  thus  been  skeletonized, 
the  various  headings  and  the  more  important  subhead- 
ings may  profitably  be  memorized.  This  may  sound 
unorthodox  in  these  days  of  loose  methods,  but  expe- 
rience testifies  that  any  acquisition  that  is  worth  while 
costs  an  effort,  and  that  a  thoroughly  organized  body 
of  knowledge  with  well-articulated  parts  is  an  acqui- 
sition worth  while;  while  experiment  demonstrates  that 
verbal  repetition  will  serve  all  the  better  to  fix  such  a 
system,  once  it  has  been  worked  out  rationally. 

7.  The  Examination.  This  is  the  capstone  of  the 
review  process.  Just  now  somewhat  under  the  ban  of 
the  reformer,  it  is  nevertheless  an  indispensable  agency 
of  education  if  the  principles  developed  in  the  former 
chapters  are  valid. 

The  very  essence  of  an  examination  is  its  formal  char- 
acter. So-called  informal  examinations  or  tests  may 
be  valuable  for  certain  purposes,  but  they  entirely  miss 
the  virile  virtue  that  the  examination,  in  the  strenuous 
sense  of  the  term,  possesses.  The  function  of  the  exami- 
nation as  a  test  of  the  pupil's  knowledge  is  not  of  para- 
mount importance,  but  its  function  as  an  organizing 
agency  of  knowledge  is  supreme.  The  period  of  intense 
application  preceding  the  examination  represents  the 
burning-point  of  attention.  It  is  a  strain,  to  be  sure, 
but  a  strain  that  pays.    The  little  children,  the  weak- 


334  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

lings,  and  the  girls  at  the  onset  of  adolescence  may 
wisely  be  exempted  from  its  operation  ;  but  for  the 
great  majority  of  pupils  and  students  above  the  age  of 
eight  the  examination  is  the  agency  of  formal  educa- 
tion par  excellence. 

The  virtue  of  the  examination  lies,  then,  in  its  power 
to  jorce  strenuous  mental  effort  to  the  task  of  organiz- 
ing a  large  body  of  facts  and  principles  into  a  coherent 
system.  This  is  the  standard  by  which  examination 
questions  should  be  set.  They  should  be  large  and  com- 
prehensive, so  formulated  that  they  will  bring  out  and 
exercise,  not  the  memory  for  details,  but  the  capacity 
to  grasp  large  masses  of  knowledge  and  weld  the  separate 
facts  and  principles  into  systematic  unities. 

To  this  end  the  examination  should  be,  from  the  pupil's 
standpoint,  an  important  test  of  successful  work.  If 
the  pupil  realizes  that  success  or  failure  depends  upon 
"passing"  his  "finals,"  he  has  one  of  the  most  pow- 
erful motives  —  the  motive  of  pride  —  for  successful 
effort.  In  this  sense  it  is  true  that  the  examination  is 
a  device;  for  the  end  of  knowledge  is  application,  not 
organization.  But  if  our  main  contention  is  valid,  — 
if  organization  is  the  most  important  and  the  most  eco- 
nomical factor  in  promoting  efficient  recall,  —  then  the 
examination  is  a  legitimate  means  to  a  final  end,  and 
probably  the  most  effective  instrument  that  is  at  the 
command  of  the  school  for  this  purpose. 


CHAPTER  XXm 
The  Hygiene  of  the  Educative  Process 

I.  In  the  sense  that  it  departs  from  the  primitive 
lines  of  life,  education  is  an  artificial  process.  It  rep- 
resents in  the  individual  growth  what  civilization  repre- 
sents in  racial  development;  and,  like  civilization,  it 
demands  a  readjustment  for  which  the  body  is  not  natu- 
rally adapted. 

The  erect  posture,  the  indoor  life,  the  necessity  for 
concentration  of  energy,  the  necessity  for  persistent 
inhibition  of  normal  impulse,  the  eating  of  cooked  foods 
and  the  drinking  of  warm  liquids,  the  use  of  artificial 
means  of  shelter  and  protection  —  all  these  indicate 
in  some  measure  the  particulars  in  which  man  differs 
from  his  immediate  forbears  in  the  animal  series;  and 
while  all  these  things  mean  much  to  human  life,  man's 
body  is  not  in  every  case  adapted  to  the  changes  that  they 
involve.  This  lack  of  perfect  balance  finds  expression 
in  the  many  ills  and  ailments  peculiar  to  humanity. 
The  erect  posture  relieves  the  upper  limbs  of  the  function 
of  locomotion  and  preserves  the  equihbrium  of  the  body, 
which   would   otherwise   be   rendered   unstable   by   the 

335 


336  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

disproportionate  development  of  the  brain.  Yet  this 
posture  also  exposes  the  viscera  of  the  abdomen,  which 
have  no  bony  protection,  and  so  paves  the  way  for  enteric 
complaints.  By  this  means,  too,  additional  labor  is 
placed  upon  the  heart.  In  woman,  the  erect  posture 
has  shifted  the  center  of  gravity  in  the  reproductive 
organs,  causing  a  transference  of  strain  to  a  point  that 
has  not  been  given  increased  strength  to  bear  its  added 
responsibihties.  Again,  the  concentration  and  inhibi- 
tion imposed  by  modem  conditions  make  enormous 
demands  upon  nervous  energy,  which  not  infrequently 
find  their  culmination  in  nervous  disintegration,  corre- 
lated on  the  mental  side  with  decay  and  degeneration. 
Similarly,  the  dependence  upon  prepared  foods  demands 
a  readjustment  in  the  digestive  process  which  is  not 
always  satisfactory  to  the  individual  chiefly  interested. 
In  short,  the  old  maxim,  "Nature  never  does  anything 
by  halves,"  is  quite  overthrown  in  the  case  of  man.  The 
very  virtues  of  civiHzation  impose  upon  every  one  who 
lives  the  social  Ufe  the  paradoxical  obligation  to  break 
nature's  laws.  How  to  get  the  most  out  of  hfe  with  the 
least  sufiFering,  how  to  do  the  best  work  with  the  least 
drain,  how  to  be  human  and  civilized  and  still  be  a  healthy 
animal,  are  problems  that  can  only  approximate  solution 
through  compromise.  When  the  best  Ufe  entails  no  phys- 
ical suffering,  when  the  best  work  can  be  done  without 
danger  of  nervous  breakdown,  when  civilization  and  cul- 
ture fail  to  demand  some  violation  of  primitive  laws,  man 


HYGIENE   OF   THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS  337 

will  have  developed  into  a  being  that  will  have  little  bodily 
resemblance  to  his  present  self. 

2.  In  the  work  of  the  school  this  process  of  readjust- 
ment imposes  the  following  conditions :  — 

(a)  The  child's  normal  tendency  is  toward  an  active 
out-of-door  life  with  an  abundance  of  oxygen  and  sun- 
light; the  school  demands  an  indoor  life  with  a  possible 
insufficiency  of  oxygen  and  sunhght. 

(b)  The  normal  tendency  is  toward  great  freedom  of 
movement,  with  only  brief  periods  of  quiescence  during 
waking  hours;  the  school  demands  a  marked  inhibition 
of  movement  and  comparatively  long  periods  of  bodily 
quiescence. 

(c)  The  natural  tendency  is  toward  the  coarser  adjust- 
ments, involving  the  large  muscles;  the  school  demands 
the  finer  adjustments,  involving  the  smaller  muscles. 
This  is  especially  true  in  eye  movements.  To  make 
accurate  scrutiny  of  fine  details  at  short  range  during 
periods  of  long  duration  is  a  task  for  which  the  human 
eye  in  its  present  condition  is  very  poorly  adapted. 

(d)  Closely  related  to  (c)  is  the  demand  that  the 
school  makes  upon  the  child  for  active  attention.  The 
conquest  of  impulse,  which  is  the  keynote  of  civilization 
and  morality,  means  inhibition  and  a  consequently  large 
expenditure  of  nervous  energy. 

To  fulfill  these  requirements  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  process  of  education  will  not  defeat  its  own  purpose 
is  a  difficult  task  upon  its  face.    It  is  easy  to  go  to  ex- 
z 


338  THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS 

tremes  :  the  pupil's  natural  tendencies  may  be  respected 
and  indulged,  and  his  bodily  health  possibly  preserved 
thereby.  But  in  this  case  his  civiHzation  is  not  accom- 
pUshed,  but  only  postponed  to  a  more  unfavorable  period. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  most  exacting  requirements  that 
social  life  demands  may  be  fulfilled  if  the  school  neglects 
the  hygiene  of  stress  and  strain.  But  the  individual  who 
is  thus  treated,  while  he  may  bear  some  of  the  earmarks 
of  culture  and  civilization,  is  more  than  Ukely  to  miss 
the  most  essential  element  of  all, —  a  sound  body  and 
physical  well-being. 

3.  The  hygiene  of  the  educative  process  may  be  dis- 
cussed under  two  heads:  (i)  the  fulfillment  of  certain 
hygienic  requirements  that  underhe  the  successful  op- 
eration of  other  factors  of  the  educative  process,  and 
(2)  the  formation  of  habits  and  ideals  that  condition 
a  healthful  life  in  general. 

(i)  The  Hygiene  0}  Instruction.  Certain  conditions 
of  light,  temperature,  ventilation,  fatigue,  etc.,  must  be 
observed  if  the  pupil  is  maximally  to  profit  by  the  work 
of  the  school.  These  conditions  may  be  disposed  of 
briefly  in  this  place,  not  because  they  are  not  important, 
but  because  a  detailed  discussion  is  rendered  superfluous 
by  the  numerous  treatises  -^  and  text-books  ^  that  so  ade- 

1  Especially  the  monumental  work  of  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky: 
Handbuch  der  Schulhygiene,  Jena,  1902, 

^  L.  Kotelmann :  School  Hygiene,  English  trans.,  Syracuse,  1899; 
E.  R.  Shaw:  School  Hygiene,  New  York,  1 901;  A.  Newsholme:  School 
Hygiene,  Boston,  1894. 


HYGIENE   OF   THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS  33^ 

quately  cover  the  field.  Only  the  most  salient  and  prac- 
tical principles  will,  therefore,  find  a  place  in  the 
following  brief  outline. 

(a)  Light}  The  light  of  the  schoolroom  should  come  ex- 
clusively from  the  left,  although  rear  windows  that  can  be 
adequately  shaded  by  opaque  curtains  may  be  useful  for  venti- 
lation. The  actual  glass  surface  should  be  from  one  sixth  to 
one  fourth  of  the  floor  surface  of  the  room,  under  normal  con- 
ditions.' Inadequate  lighting  means  a  serious  danger  of  eye 
strain,  with  its  attendant  headaches  and  general  interference 
with  the  best  work. 

{!>)  Temperature?  The  temperature  generally  recommended 
for  schoolrooms  in  this  country  is  from  68°  to  72°  F.  Wide 
variations  from  this  norm  are  apt  to  cause  restlessness  and  dis- 
traction. Each  room  should  be  provided  with  three  or  four 
good  thermometers,  which  should  be  hung  in  different  parts  of 
the  room,  at  3  to  3^  feet  above  the  floor.  Where  the  regula- 
tion of  temperature  is  not  provided  for  by  a  thermostat,  the 
thermometers  should  be  read  and  the  temperature  recorded  by 
one  of  the  pupils,  the  readings  being  placed  upon  the  black- 
board, where  the  teacher  can  learn  at  a  glance  the  temperature 
of  the  room. 

{c)  Ventilation}  There  seems  to  be  a  disagreement  among 
authorities  as  to  the  specific  cause  of  the  mental  depression 
that  is  felt  in  all  ill-ventilated  rooms,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
either  of  the  fact  of  depression  or  of  the  fact  that  fresh  air 
removes  the  cause,  whatever  it  may  be.    The  standard  of 

^  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  pp.  209-230;  Shaw,  pp.  8-26. 

2  In  the  mountain  regions,  owing,  doubtless,  to  the  exceptionally  clear 
skies  and  translucent  atmosphere,  this  ratio,  it  has  been  found  by  careful 
tests  in  the  Montana  State  Normal  College,  may  be  safely  reduced  to  on« 
twelfth. 

*  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  pp.  266-272;   Shaw,  pp.  65  ff. 

*  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  pp.  272-307;  Shaw,  pp.  68-109. 


340  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

air  renewal  is  30  cubic  feet  each  minute  for  every  pupil.  The 
texts  referred  to  will  furnish  various  methods  for  determining 
whether  a  given  system  of  ventilation  is  efficient  in  this  degree. 
When  windows  are  opened  for  ventilation,  care  should  be  taken 
to  prevent  drafts  from  falling  upon  the  pupils.  Exchange  of 
air  between  the  interior  and  exterior  of  a  building  is  propor- 
tional to  the  difference  in  temperature ;  in  cold  weather  the 
air  will  circulate  readily,  but  when  the  temperature  of  the  room 
is  approximately  that  of  the  outside  air,  the  rate  of  interchange 
is  greatly  diminished.  Shaw  recommends  that,  in  buildings 
having  no  fan  system,  the  windows  be  opened  once  every  hour, 
and  the  air  of  the  room  thoroughly  renewed.  The  children 
should  be  exercised  during  these  periods,  and  the  temperature 
must  not  be  unduly  reduced.  In  buildings  ventilated  by  the 
fan  system,  windows  should  not  be  opened  while  the  fan  is 
operating.  If  they  are,  the  system  of  incoming  and  outgoing 
drafts,  upon  which  the  fan  system  depends  for  its  efficiency, 
will  be  upset,  and  with  deleterious  consequences.  No  small 
part  of  the  opposition  to  fan  ventilation  results  from  the  per- 
sistence of  teachers  in  opening  windows  while  the  fan  is  in 
operation. 

(d)  Fatigue}  Despite  the  numerous  researches  concerning 
the  factors  of  fatigue  and  their  operation  in  the  school,  this  is 
still  a  dark  chapter  of  school  hygiene.  It  is  extremely  difficult 
to  segregate  the  "central"  from  the  "peripheral"  factors  — 
to  devise  a  test  that  will  adequately  measure  the  exhaustion  of 
the  nerve  cells  rather  than  the  fatigue  of  the  muscles  or  the 
mere  feeling  of  "  tiredness,"  which  may  not  in  the  least  mean 
nervous  exhaustion. 

Three  general  methods  ^  of  investigation  have  been  employed 
with  varying  degrees  of  success  :  (i)  the  dictation-computation 

1  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  pp.  454-718;  Shaw,  pp.  227-234;  Kotel 
mann,  ch.  viL 

^  A  clear  account  of  these  methods  is  given  by  Kotelmann,  ch.  vii. 


HYGIENE  OF    THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS  34I 

method,  used  extensively  by  Sikorsky,  Burgerstein,  and  Teljat- 
nik ;  in  brief,  consisting  in  the  dictation  of  sentences  of  equal 
length  and  difficulty,  or  the  assignment  of  problems  of  equal 
difficulty,  under  varying  conditions,  and  a  comparison  of  the 
errors ;  (2)  the  ergographic  method,  based  on  the  assumption 
that  the  disintegration  of  nerve  substance,  after  reaching  a 
certain  point,  results  in  a  specific  chemical  poison,  which  is 
diffused  through  the  system  and  which  interferes  with  muscular 
activity ;  muscular  strength,  as  measured  by  an  ergograph  or 
recording  dynamometer,  thus  becoming  an  index  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  nerve  cells ;  a  method  used  extensively  by  Mosso 
and  Keller,  and  perhaps,  all  in  all,  the  m'ost  satisfactory  test  j 
and  (3)  the  cesthesiometric  method,  introduced  by  Griesbach, 
employing  an  sesthesiometer  for  determining  the  sensitivity  of 
the  skin,  under  the  assumption  (now  generally  believed  to  be 
fallacious)  that  exhaustion  of  the  central  nerve  cells  decreases 
this  sensitivity. 

From  the  comprehensive  digest  of  the  literature  made  by 
Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  the  following  principles  appear  to 
be  fairly  well  established :  — 

(i)  Certain  types  of  mental  work  induce  fatigue  more  rapidly 
than  other  types  of  work.  All  authorities  seem  to  agree  that 
mathematics,  gymnastics,  foreign,  and  especially  ancient,  lan- 
guages are  more  fatiguing  than  the  mother  tongue,  geography, 
and  history.  The  following  series,  showing  decreasing  fatigue 
indices,  are  typical ;  the  first  is  presented  by  Wagner  on  the 
basis  of  aesthesiometric  tests,  the  second  by  Kemsies  on  the 
basis  of  ergographic  tests  :  ^  — 

Wagner:  mathematics,  Latin,  Greek,  gymnastics,  history, 
geography,  arithmetic,  French,  mother  tongue  (German), 
nature  study,  drawing,  religion. 

Kemsies :  gymnastics,  mathematics,  foreign  language,  re- 
ligion, mother  tongue,  natural  science,  geography,  history,  sing- 
ing, drawing. 

1  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  p.  569. 


342  THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS 

(2)  In  general,  it  would  seem  that  the  fatiguing  studies  are 
(a)  those  involving  a  great  deal  of  muscular  effort,  (p)  those 
involving  abstract  judgments,  and  {c)  those  involving  drill  in 
form;  while  the  less  fatiguing  subjects  are  predominantly 
those  in  which  the  thought  or  content  is  uppermost,  and 
those  involving  objective  factors. 

(3)  The  curve  of  work  capacity  presents  the  form  of  a  series 
of  waves,  indicating  that  the  function  is  rhythmic.  The  best 
work  is  not  done  at  the  very  outset,  but  only  after  a  certain 
inertia  has  been  overcome  or  a  certain  momentum  gained. 
This  is  clearly  brought  out  by  the  ergographic  researches  of 
Keller.i 

(4)  There  is  probably  a  seasonal  variation  in  work  capacity, 
the  curve,  according  to  Shuyten,^  reaching  its  highest  points  in 
December  and  January  and  its  lowest  point  in  July. 

(5)  The  daily  work  curve  for  normal  children  on  a  •''  free 
day  "  —  such  as  our  Saturday  —  was  found  by  Teljatnik  ^  to 
decrease  gradually  until  noon,  then  to  rise  again  at  two  o'clock 
to  a  point  somewhat  above  the  morning's  maximum,  then  to 
fall  rapidly  until  about  five  o'clock,  when  it  reached  the  low 
point  of  the  afternoon.  On  a  school  day,  however,  the  curve 
in  the  morning  declines  much  more  rapidly,  and  reaches  a 
lower  point  at  noon ;  the  afternoon  high  point  is  much  lower 
than  on  a  free  day,  and  the  afternoon  decline  not  quite  so 
rapid. 

(6)  There  appears  to  be  little  experimental  evidence  as  to 
variations  in  work  capacity  at  different  stages  of  growth.  The 
optimal  length  of  the  recitation  and  study  periods  is  generally 
conceded  to  increase  as  the  child  grows  older,  and  the  follow- 
ing determinations,  credited  to  Chadwick,*  represent  the  best 
practice  in  American  schools :  — 

1  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  p.  572.      ^  Ibid.  p.  582.      "  Ibid.  p.  597, 
*  S.  H.  Rowe:  Physical  Nature  of  the  Child,  pp.  167-168;   Shaw,  pp 
229  f. ;  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  p.  545. 


HYGIENE   OF   THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS  343 

From  5  to  7  years  of  age,  all  periods  are  15  minutes' 
duration. 

From  7  to  10  years  of  age,  all  periods  are  20  minutes' 
duration. 

From  10  to  12  years  of  age,  all  periods  are  25  minutes' 
duration. 

From  12  to  16  years  of  age,  all  periods  are  30  minutes' 
duration. 

(e)  The  Special  Hygiene  of  Reading  and  Writing.^  It  is  in 
connection  with  reading  and  writing  that  there  is  probably 
the  greatest  danger  of  evil  consequences  from  a  violation  of 
hygienic  laws. 

(i)  The  posture  in  reading  is  particularly  important.  Desks 
should  be  so  adjusted  that  the  books  and  papers  laid  thereon 
will  be  not  more  than  twelve  inches  from  the  eyes  when  the 
pupil  sits  erect.  In  the  class  exercises  in  reading  the  pupil 
when  standing  should  acquire  the  habit  of  holding  the  book  at 
this  distance  from  the  eyes.  Where  pupils  find  this  difficult, 
they  should  be  examined  by  a  competent  oculist.'^ 

(2)  The  posture  in  writing  is  also  a  matter  of  profound 
importance.  One  of  the  leading  defects  of  the  "slant"  sys- 
tem of  penmanship  is  its  inevitable  tendency  toward  an 
asymmetrical  position  of  the  body,  leading  to  lateral  curvature 
of  the  spine.  The  vertical  system,  properly  taught,  eliminates 
this  danger  and  is,  from  the  hygienic  standpoint,  by  far  the 
most  satisfactory  method.  In  any  case  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
no  system  of  writing  should  be  employed  that  does  not  permit 
the  paper  to  be  placed  directly  in  front  of  the  child  and  not  at 
an  angle.  The  pupil  should  sit  erect  with  his  feet  flat  on  the 
floor  and  his  head  well  elevated. 

(3)  The  minimum  size  of  type  that  can  be  used  without 

1  Burgerstein  and  Netolitzky,  pp.  602-642;    Shaw,  chs.  ix  and  x. 

2  With  a  little  training  in  the  use  of  the  Snellen  test  types,  the  teachei 
may  readily  diagnose  the  more  common  defects  of  vision. 


344  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

injury  to  the  normal  eye  has  been  determined  by  Cohn  to  be 
1.5  mm.  in  height  and  0.25  mm.  in  breadth  for  the  smallest  n, 
and  the  length  of  the  longest  line  should  not  exceed  10  cm.  (4 
inches).  For  the  first  school  year,  Shaw^  recommends  type 
not  smaller  than  2.6  ram.  in  height  for  the  smallest  n,  with  a 
"  leading  "  of  4.5  mm.  For  the  third  year  the  height  should 
be  not  less  than  2  mm.,  with  4  mm.  leading ;  for  the  fifth  year, 
1-8  mm.  in  height  and  ^.6  mm.  leading.  No  school  books,  he 
maintains,  should  have  type  smaller  than  1.6  mm.  in  height  nor 
leading  closer  than  3  mm. 

(4)  Slates  are  unhygienic  for  at  least  two  reasons :  (a)  the 
unclean  habits  that  they  promote;  and  {&)  the  lack  of  a 
sharp  contrast  between  the  pencil  mark  and  the  background. 
Blackboards  should  be  dead  black  and  unglazed,  and  the 
crayon  should  be  soft  enough  to  make  a  clear,  heavy  stroke. 
Shaw  states  that  blackboard  letters  for  the  older  pupils  should 
be  not  less  than  7  mm.  in  height  and  much  larger  for  the 
younger  pupils. 

(/)  Cheerfulness  as  a  Factor  in  the  Educative  Process. 
That  a  maximal  degree  of  efficiency  in  any  line  of  work 
is  inconsistent  with  gloom  and  depression  is  not  only  a 
common  verdict  of  general  experience,  but  a  logical  in- 
ference from  scientific  principles.  It  is  a  vi^ell-established 
law  of  psychology  ^  that  a  state  of  mind  which  is  pre- 
dominantly "pleasant"  in  its  affective  coloring  is  always 
accompanied  by  certain  well-defined  physiological  phe- 
nomena: (i)  an  increase  in  the  volume  of  the  body,  due 
to  a  distention  of  the  capillaries  running  underneath  the 
skin;   (2)   deeper  breathing ;   (3)   increased  rate  of  pulse  " 

1  Shaw,  o/>.  cit.,  pp.  175  ff. 

8  Cf.  E.  B.  Titchener :   Outline  of  Psychology,  p.  112. 


HYGIENE   OF   THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS  34$ 

beat;  and  (4)  increased  muscular  energy.  A  state  of 
mind  which  is  "unpleasantly"  toned,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  accompanied  by  bodily  phenomena  of  the  opposite 
character:  decrease  in  bodily  volume,  lighter  breathing, 
decreased  rate  of  pulse  beat,  and  decreased  muscular 
energy. 

The  relation  of  these  factors  to  efficiency  is  obvious. 
Hope  and  buoyancy  simply  mean,  other  things  equal, 
a  favorable  condition  for  good  work  of  any  sort,  while 
gloom  and  depression  must,  by  the  same  token,  form  a 
heavy  handicap  in  any  line  of  endeavor.  The  old  prov- 
erb, "Nothing  succeeds  like  success,"  is  thus  seen  to 
be,  hke  so  many  other  proverbs,  a  profound  psychologi- 
cal law.  The  glow  of  satisfaction  that  comes  from  the 
consciousness  of  work  well  done  sets  free  the  energy  that 
can  be  concentrated  upon  the  new  and  more  difficult 
task,  thus  multiplying  the  chances  for  a  fresh  triumph. 
And  the  sickening  sense  of  failure  will  similarly  choke 
up  the  channels  of  energy  and  multiply  the  chances  for 
a  second  defeat.  The  man  who,  in  the  face  of  this  handi- 
cap, can  pluck  success  out  of  failure  and  victory  out  of 
defeat  is  the  rarest  of  heroes. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  cheerfulness  and  encourage- 
ment should  be  the  keynotes  of  instruction.  This  does 
not  mean  that  the  teacher  must  "coquette  for  the  good 
will  of  the  child,"  or  "tickle  his  vanity  with  praises  and 
prizes,"  or  that  scamped  work  should  be  tolerated,  or 
that  there  is  no  place  in  the  educative  process  for  the 


346  THE   EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

pain  economy  and  the  unquestioned,  uncomplaining  per* 
formance  of  disagreeable  tasks.  It  does  mean,  however, 
that  honest,  efl5cient  work  should  be  candidly  and  hon- 
estly recognized  ;  that  criticism  of  all  kinds  should  be 
positive  rather  than  negative,  constructive  rather  than 
destructive  ;  and  above  all  that  petty  and  querulous  fault- 
finding and  the  sarcasm  and  ridicule  that  are  worse  than 
blows  have  no  legitimate  function  in  the  school. 

4.  (2)  Hygienic  Habits  and  Ideals.  In  the  process  of 
readjustment  involved  in  the  transition  from  a  primitive 
to  a  civilized  mode  of  life,  the  instinctive  or  impulsive 
reactions  which  are  adapted  to  pre-social  conditions  must 
be  modified  or  replaced  by  reactions  designed  to  further 
social  ends.  Some  of  these  reactions  will  function  chiefly 
in  preserving  health  and  bodily  well-being  amid  the 
changes  incident  to  the  general  readjustment.  Thus  the 
habits  of  correct  posture,  graceful  carriage,  exercise, 
cleanliness,  moderation,  are  ultimately  hygienic  habits, 
and  the  ideals  through  which  they  are  generalized  are 
hygienic  ideals, —  beauty,  grace,  health,  chastity,  temper- 
ance, love  of  outdooi:  Hfe.  These  hygienic  habits  and 
ideals  might  be  called  the  balance  wheels  of  civilization; 
it  is  through  their  operation  that  man  has  so  far  escaped 
annihilation  at  the  hands  of  the  very  agencies  that  have 
lifted  him  up. 

There  is  no  sterner  duty  laid  upon  the  teacher  than 
the  development  of  these  habits  and  ideals.  A  large  pub- 
lic school  is  a  fertile  ground  for  implanting  the  seeds  of 


HYGIENE    OF    THE   EDUCATIVE    PROCESS  34f 

disease  and  vice.  The  mind  of  the  child  at  any  time 
after  the  eighth  year  is  predisposed  to  impulses  that  are 
vulgar  and  degrading.  Some  of  these  reactions  may  be 
"natural"  enough:  they  are  not  always  to  be  looked 
upon  as  abnormalities  or  perversions  ;  but  under  the 
conditions  of  modern  life  they  are  none  the  less  disas- 
trous, and  it  is  precisely  at  this  point  that  some  form  of 
education  or  external  guidance  becomes  essential  to  the 
salvation  cf  the  race.  If  the  dictum,  "Follow  nature," 
is  ever  fallacious,  it  certainly  is  here,  for  here  nature  is 
working  at  cross  purposes,  pitting  instincts  and  impulses 
so  evenly  against  one  another  that  the  composition  of 
forces,  if  left  to  the  operation  of  natural  law,  could  hardly 
fail  to  equal  zero  in  practically  e/ery  case. 

5.  In  dealing  with  children  between  the  ages  of  eight 
and  twelve  there  is  little  room  for  freedom  or  liberty. 
Ceaseless  vigilance  is  here  the  price  of  success,  and  this 
vigilance  must  extend  to  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the 
child's  nature.  Uncleanliness  of  all  sorts  grows  with  the 
growth.  Filth  breeds  filth,  both  mentally  and  materially. 
The  germs  must  be  nipped  in  the  bud  if  infection  is  to 
be  prevented.  The  general  treatment  must  be  aseptic, 
the  specific  treatment  antiseptic. 

This  lays  a  heavy  task  of  police  duty  upon  the  teacher — 
and  a  task  that  he  cannot  escape.  It  is  disagreeable  to  make 
daily,  perhaps  sometimes  hourly,  inspections  of  closets  and 
vaults  and  fence  corners  in  order  to  cull  out  the  inevitable  in- 
decencies—  but  nothing  else  will  do  it.     It  seems  a  poor  use 


348  THE  EDUCATIVE  PROCESS 

of  valuable  time  to  force  one's  adult  presence  upon  the  play- 
ground at  recess ;  but  when  five  hundred  or  even  thirty  little 
children  need  no  supervision,  the  very  significance  of  infancy  as 
a  period  of  necessary  dependence  will  have  passed  away. 

6.  In  dealing  with  adolescents,  as  was  suggested  in 
a  former  chapter,  specific  methods  must  be  employed, 
differing  radically  from  those  used  in  the  pre-adolescent 
period.  Arbitrary  rulings  and  summary  punishments 
must  give  place  to  reason;  and  the  hygienic  habits  that 
have  been  formed  largely  by  mechanical  processes  in  the 
earlier  years  must  now  be  generalized  and  justified  on 
the  basis  of  ideals. 

Adolescence  brings  with  it  the  source  of  the  gravest 
dangers  to  health  and  morals  in  the  coming  into  function 
of  the  sex  instinct.  The  post-pubertal  years  are,  indeed, 
the  crucial  point  in  the  readjustment  from  primitive  to 
social  conditions.  The  pushing  forward  of  sexual  ma- 
turity is  enough  in  itself  to  occasion  serious  consequences ; 
but  when,  with  sexual  maturity  accomphshed,  the  normal 
function  of  reproduction  is  still  further  postponed,  through 
social  forces,  for  fifteen  or  even  twenty  years,  a  condition 
is  created  the  gravity  of  which  we  are  just  beginning  to 
appreciate.  It  is  impossible  to  estimate  what  proportion 
of  the  disease,  the  vice,  and  the  misery  of  modem  life 
owe  their  inception  to  the  perverted  and  abnormal  func- 
tionings  of  the  sex  instinct  during  youth  ;  but  every  new 
investigation  in  this  forbidding  field  yields  sufficient  data 
to  cause  increased  alarm.    In  the  light  of  what  knowl- 


HYGIENE   OF   THE   EDUCATIVE   PROCESS  349 

edge  we  now  possess  —  and  this  is  little  enough  —  one  is 
almost  bound  to  adopt  a  pessimistic  attitude  toward  the 
destiny  of  the  race;  to  admit,  unwillingly  though  one 
may,  that  civilization  is  indeed  playing  a  desperate  game, 
and  that  the  very  forces  that  have  lifted  man  so  far  above 
the  brute  may  yet  operate  to  annihilate  his  species. 

In  all  this  murky  atmosphere  of  pessimism  and  doubt 
there  is  but  one  faint  beacon  hght  of  hope, —  the  school. 
Civilization  is  indissolubly  bound  up  in  the  ever  length- 
ening period  of  immaturity.  Education,  which  is  the 
guardian  of  civilization,  owes  its  efficiency  to  the  same 
factor.  In  return  for  this  priceless  advantage,  education 
must  in  some  way  make  up  for  nature's  lack  of  foresight. 
It  can  do  this  in  part  by  replacing  ignorance  and  mys- 
tery with  knowledge,  in  part  by  insuring  an  environment 
that  is  free  from  suggestions  of  evil,  in  part  by  segregat- 
ing the  sexes,  in  part  by  developing  the  highest  ideals  of 
purity  and  honor.  At  best  the  task  is  Herculean  ;  but  if 
education  fails  in  this  one  supreme  test,  it  needs  no 
prophet's  vision  to  perceive  that  human  progress,  for 
which  education  stands  sponsor,  will  sooner  or  later  end 
in  a  cul-de-sac. 


INDEX 

[Authorities  cited  are  printed  in  SMALL  CAPITALI.] 


Abstraction,  in  conceptual  judg- 
ments, 137  f.;  in  practical  judg- 
ment, 132 ;  formal  step  of,  287, 
296  ff. 

Accessory  muscles,  in  apperception, 

85  f. 
Acquired  characteristics,  inheritance 

of,  6  («.)>  10  ft- 
Adjustment,     modification     of,     3, 

7  («.).  23,  40, 41,  85,  162,  335  ff.; 

as  purpose  of  mind,  66. 
Adjustments,  inherited,  4  ff. 
Adolescence,  186,  195  ff.,  348  f. 
./Esthesiometer,  in  fatigue  tests,  341. 
Aggregate  ideas,  148,  156,  299. 
Aim,  of  education,  40  ff. ;   statement 

of,  287,  291  flf.;  function  of,  291  f. 
Allen,  G.,  255. 
Allen,  Jessie,  31. 
Analysis,   in    conceptual   judgment, 

140  ;  in  formal  steps,  286,  293  ff.; 

in  practical   judgment,   132 ;    in 

solution  of  aggregate,  148. 
Animal   psychology,   4   ff.,  31  («.), 

134  f- 

Anticipatory  deduction,  160,  308  ff. 

Aphasia,  sensory,  87  f. 

Apperception,  66  ff. ;  and  attention, 
104  ff. ;  degrees  of,  84  ff. ;  in  drill 
lesson,  330  f. ;  fundamental  law 
of,  67  ;  and  imitation,  243  ff. ; 
and  objective  teaching,  248;  sys- 
tems of,  87  ff.,  105. 

Application,  formal  step  of,  287, 
301  ff. 


Apraxia,  75  f.,  85. 

Aristotle,  55  f. 

Arithmetic,  37,  1 12,  149,  204,  226^ 
23^  302,  310.  328,  330- 

Art,  in  education,  280  ff". 

Assignment,  293,  517  ff. 

Association  systems,  76;  step  of,  286. 

Attention,  96  ff. ;  active,  99  ff.,  188, 
192 ;  and  apperception,  104  ff. ; 
and  conception,  141 ;  function 
of,  97  ;  and  judgment,  132,  140; 
passive,  97  ff.,  188,  192;  and  re- 
call, 172  ;  secondary  passive,  loo. 

Automatic  movement,  116. 

Bagley,  W.  C,  143,  146. 
Baldwin,  J.  M.,  6,  9,  18,  69,  74,  75, 

115,  126,  142,239,240. 
Barbarism,  education  in  stage  of,  27. 
Barker,  L.  F.,  21,  76. 
Barnes,  Earl,  79. 

Mary  S.,  193. 
Bawden,  H.  H.,  106. 
Bethe,  A.,  7. 
Binet,  A.,  79. 

Biology,  and  educational  theory,  3  ff. 
Book  instruction,  varieties  of,  275  ff. 
Books,    as    media    of   instruction, 

267  ff.,  316  ff. 
Botany,  314. 
Brain,   structural  changes  in,  17  £, 

190  ;  localization  of  function,  77  f. 
Bread-and-butter,  aim  of  education, 

44  ff. 
Brooks,  W.  K.,  13,  19,  98. 


3S> 


352 


INDEX 


Brown,  H.  F.,  238. 
Bryan,  E.  B.,  hi. 

BURGERSTEIN,  L.,  338,  339,  34O,  34I, 

342,  343- 
Burk, F.,  Ill,  187,198. 
Burnet,  E.  G.,  30. 

Calkins,  Mary  W.,  169. 
Chadwick,  E.,  342. 
Chamberlain,  A.   F.,   15,  30,  32, 

79- 

Chase,  Frances,  208. 

Cheerfulness  in  school  work,  344  ff. 

Child  psychology,  79,  90,  135, 185  ff.; 
study,  185  ff. 

China,  education  in,  33. 

Civilization,  and  effort,  18  ff.,  108  ; 
relation  to  education,  93,  349. 

Classics,  education  in,  48,  221. 

Cleanliness;  habits  of,  208,  211; 
ideals  of,  213  ff. 

Clearness,  formal  step  of,  285. 

Cohn,  M.,  344. 

Collecting  instinct,  1 1 2. 

Collins,  J.,  76,  87. 

Common  sense,  and  theory,  162. 

Comparison,  formal  step  of,  287, 
296  ff.;  in  practical  judgment,  132. 

Concentration,  of  studies,  179  ff. 

Concepts,  and  apperceptive  systems, 
144 ;  collective,  141  ;  as  con- 
densed experiences,  138,  140  ff., 
152  ;  in  education,  256  ff.,  284  ff.; 
individual,  142. 

Concept  building,  in  education,  146  ff. 

Concrete  experience,  in  judgment, 
128  ff.;  recall  of,  169  ff. 

Condensation,  of  experiences,  137  ff. 

Condensed  experience,  in  judgment, 
128  ff.;  recall  of,  172  ff. 

Conservatism,  of  education,  50. 

Cope,  E.  D.,  ii,  12. 

Correlation,  of  studies,  I79ff. 

CrOSWELL,   III. 

Culture  aim  of  education,  48  ff. 


Daniels,  A.  H.,  27. 

Darwin,  C,  6,  12,  255. 

Data,  in  deductive  lesson,  308,  313. 

Davidson,  T.,  26,  27,  28. 

Deductive  development  lesson, 
305  ff. ;  anticipatory,  308  ff . ;  ex- 
planatory, 308,  312  ff.;  limitations 
of,  315- 

Deductive  reasoning,  159  ff. 

De  Garmo,  C,  106,  181,  271,  287, 
288,  324,  325. 

Dejerine,  87. 

Deniker,  J.,  27. 

Dependence,  importance  of,  in  in- 
fancy, 30. 

Depression,  effect  on  education,  345  f. 

Des  Bancels,  J.  L.,  175. 

Development,  of  child,  184  ff. ; 
transition  period  of,  187;  forma- 
tive period  of,  190  ff.;  adolescent 
period  of,  195  ff. 

Development,  harmonious,  as  edu- 
cational aim,  50  ff. 

Development  lesson,  inductive, 
284  ff.;   deductive,  285,  305  ff. 

Development  method,  256  ff. 

Devices, in  language  training,  245  ff.; 
in  drill  lesson,  330  f. 

De  Vries,  H.,  7. 

Dewey,  J.,  65,  106. 

Diagrams,  as  media  of  instruction, 
278  ff. 

Dictation  method,  in  fatigue  tests, 
340  f. 

Dictionaries,  children's,  79. 

Direct  method,  256  ff. 

Discipline,  formal,  203  ff. 

Dodge,  R.,  98,  268. 

Donaldson,  H,  H.,  187,  190. 

Drawing,  244. 

Drawings,  as  media  of  instructioi^ 
278  ff. 

Drill,  in  habit  forming,  122. 

Drill  lessons,  328  ff. 

DUTTON,  S.  T.,  65. 


INDEX 


353 


Eaton,  S.  W.,  245. 

Ebbinghaus,  H.,  174. 

Educability  of  lower  animals,  3  ff.; 
of  man,  8  ff. 

Education,  as  artificial  process,  335  ff. ; 
conservatism  of,  50;  definition 
of,  22;  empirical  aim  of,  41 ;  ethi- 
cal aim  of,  40  ff. ;  formal  vs.  infor- 
mal, 23  ff . ;  and  infancy,  30  ff . ; 
new  vs.  old,  184  ff.;  physical, 
51  f.;  reduced  to  lowest  terms, 
I  ff. 

Educational  values,  225  ff. 

Eliot,  George,  122. 

Emotional  transmission,  media  of, 
280  ff. 

Emotions,  importance  of,  in  ideals, 
222  f. 

England,  education  in,  34. 

Environment,  influence  of,  16  ff., 
35 ;  and  heredity,  35  ff. ;  and 
school  studies,  36  ff. 

Ephrussi,  p.,  175. 

Erdmann,  B.,  268. 

Ergograph,  as  test  of  fatigue,  341. 

Ethical  end  of  education,  40  ff. 

Evolution,  factors  in,  10  ff. ;  and  in- 
fancy, 30  ff.;  and  morality,  59  f.; 
of  school,  25  ff. 

Examinations,  333  ff. 

Excursions,  school,  249  f. 

Experience,  definition  of,  81 ;  con- 
densation of,  94,  137. 

Explanatory  deduction,  160,  308, 
312  ff. 

Fact,  definition  of,  166. 

Facts,  in  educative  process,  258  f. 

False  syntax,  126. 

Family,  as  agency  of  education,  25  ff. 

Fatigue,  340  ff. 

FisKE,  John,  30. 

FiTZPATRiCK,  F.  A,,  184. 

Flechsig,  Paul,  78. 

Focalization,  conditions  of,  96  S. 


Formal  education,  25  ff. 

Formal  steps  of  instruction,  285  ff. 

Formative  period  of  development, 
190  ff.;   hygiene  of,  347  f. 

Frequency,  as  a  factor  in  recall,  169^ 
171. 

Fundamental  muscles,  in  appercep- 
tion, 85  f. 

Gardens,  school,  253. 
Generalist,  definition  of,  167. 
Generalization,   definition   of,  166; 

formal  step  of,  287,  299  ff. ;  pupil's 

right  of,  260. 
Genesis,  of    instinct,  5  ff.,  98 ;    of 

judgment,  133  ff. 
Genetic  psychology,  79,  134  ff.,  145, 

184  ff. 
Geography,   37,   148  f.,   176,  227  f., 

230,  231,   232,  246,   249  ff.,  276, 

294,   306,   307,   308  f.,  313,  318, 

332. 
George,  H.  B.,  231, 
Germany,  education  in,  35,  319. 
Gore,  W.  €.,  145. 
Grammar,  iii  f,  124,  126,  230,  289, 

290,  292,  294,  297  f.,  301, 302, 312. 
Graphic  representation,  as  medium 

of  education,  278  ff.;  in  develop- 
ment lesson,  294  ff. 
Groos,  Karl,  i  79. 
Guess-work,  in  deduction,  31 1. 
Guilds,  as  educative  agencies,  27. 

GULICK,  III. 

Habit,  115  ff. 

Habit-building,  122  ff.,  328  ff.;  and 
imitation,  241. 

Habits,  breaking  up  of,  124  ff.; 
function  of,  121  ff.;  generalized, 
203  ff. ;  hygienic,  346  ff. ;  and 
ideals,  212  ff. ;  marginal,  1178.; 
moral,  120  ff.;  pedagogy  of,  122  ff. 

Hall,  G.  S.,  187,  190,  193, 194,  i95f 
196,  197.  199. 245.  268,  270,  322. 


354 


INDEX 


Harmonious    development,  as   end 

of  education,  50  fl. 
HerbarTj  J.  F.,  40,  55  ff.,  86,  io6i 

285,  286. 
Heredity,   and   environment,  35  f., 

90  f. ;    and  instinct,    5  ff. ;   social, 

9  f. ;  theories  of,  10  ff. 
Hinsdale,  B.  A.,  316,  322. 
History,  37,  176,  180,  231,  276  fc 
Hobhouse,  L.  T.,  70p  93,  131,  134, 

141,  162,  175. 
Home,  education  of,  25  ff. 
HOWERTH,  I.  W.,  38. 
HuEY,  E.  B.,  268. 
Hutchinson,  Woods,  126. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  255,  311. 
Hygiene,  of  educative  process,  335  ff. 
Hygienic    habits,    346  ff.  ;      ideals, 

346  ff. 
Hylan,  J.  P.,  96. 

Idea,  and  image,  145  f„ 

Ideals,  development  of,  218  ff. ;  emo- 
tional element  in,  223 ;  in  family 
life,  219 f.;  and  habits,  212 f.; 
hygienic,  346  ff. ;  and  judgment, 
223  ;  pedagogy  of,  223  ff. ;  psy- 
chology of,  222  f. ;  as  race  charac- 
teristics, 219 ;  in  school  life,  220. 

Ideas,  focal  and  marginal,  96  f. 

Ideo-motor  habits,  118  f. 

Image,  and  idea,  145  f. 

Imagery,  in  condensed  experiences, 
144  ff. ;     in    practical    judgment, 

131  ff. 

Images,  recall  of,  i69ff. ;  in  imita- 
tion, 241  ff. 

Imitation,  and  apperception,  243  ff. ; 
in  education,  iii,  239 ff.;  and 
habit,  241  ff. ;  law  of,  240. 

Incidental  learning,  123  f. 

Indirect  method,  256  ff. 

Indolence,  psychology  of,  103  f. 

Induction,  157  ff. 

Inductive       development       lesson, 


284  ff. ;  history  of,  285  ff. ;  limited 
field  of,  304 ;  as  an  organic  unity, 
303  ;   as  a  time  unity,  299. 

Industry,  habits  of,  120,  2IO. 

Infancy,  significance  of,  29 ff. 

Inference,  in  deductive  lesson,  309^ 
313  ;  pupil's  right  of,  260. 

Informed  education,  23  ff. 

Instinct,  genesis  of,  5  ff.,  98. 

Instinctive  adjustments,  4  ff.,  83,  97. 

Instincts,  collecting,  113,  198;  of 
curiosity,  112,  166,  198;  of  day- 
dreaming, 245  ;  of  emulation,  113, 
1 98 ;  of  imitation,  iii ,  1 98,  329  ff. ; 
of  inquisitiveness,  233  f. ;  puzzle, 
J  98.  307;   of  property,  198. 

Instruction,  book,  267  ff. ;  and  de- 
velopment, 256  ff. ;  hygiene  of, 
338  ff. ;  media  of,  265  ff. ;  method 
of,  256  ff. ;   oral,  267  ff. ;   317  ff. 

Intelligence,  and  motor  organization, 

77. 
Interest,  92,  106  ff.,  197,  331. 

James,  W.,  67,  81  f.,  106,  191. 

Japan,  education  in,  34  f. 

Jennings,  H.  S.,  7. 

JosT,  178. 

Judgment,  115,  128  ff".,  212  ff. 

Judgments,  conceptual,  131,  136  ff., 
188;  definition  of,  130;  in  edu- 
cative process,  256  ff.,  284  ff. ; 
formulation  of,  299  f. ;  hypotheti- 
cal, 166;  and  ideals,  223;  im- 
personal, 156  ;  intuitive,  155  f.; 
practical,  131  fi".,  188,  241  R. ;  oni' 
versal,li66. 

Kant,  I,,  177. 
Keller,  C,  341,  342. 
Kemsies,  F.,  341. 
Kinsesthetic  sensations,  67  ff. 
King,  I.,  74,  iii,  191,  193,240,242. 
Kline,  L.  W.,  hi,  192. 
Knowledge,   as   aim    of   education, 


INDEX 


355 


46  ff.;  as  race  experience,  21;  as 
result  of  adjustment,  36  ff. 
KUELPE,  O.,  96. 

Laboratory,  pedagogy  of,  253  f. 

Lambrecht,  Lilian,  208. 

Language,  and  concept,  140  f. ;  essen- 
tial to  educative  process,  21  f.;  as 
medium  of  instruction,  266  ff. 

Language  study,  240  f.,  245  ff.,  267. 

Lantern  lessons,  246. 

Latin,  persistence  of  in  schools,  48, 

Laurie,  S.  S.,  26,  270. 

Law,  definition  of,  1 66. 

Lay,  W.  a.,  75,  80. 

Laziness,  psychology  of,  103  f. 

Lecture  method,  270  ff. 

Leisure,  importance  of  in  infancy,  31. 

Leland,  Ella  P.,  309. 

Lesson,  deductive  development, 
305  ff.;  definition  of,  284;  induc- 
tive development,  284  ff.;  recita- 
tion, 322 ff.;  review,  331  ff.;  study, 
316  ff.;  types  of,  284. 

Lesson  unities,  303. 

Lighting,  of  schoolroonas,  339. 

LiNDLEY,  E.  H.,  198,  330. 

LiPMANN,  O.,  175,  178. 

Literature,  conventional  value  of, 
231 ;  ideal  value  of,  224;  senti- 
mental value  of,  236  f!. 

Literature,  teaching  of,  282. 

LoBSiEN,  M.,  175. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,  124. 
McLennan,  S.  F.,  155,  156. 
McMuRRY,  C.  A.,  106,  i8r,  288, 291, 

293.  301. 
McMuRRV,  F.  M.,  288,  291,  293, 301. 
Manual  training,  iii,  243,  244. 
Margin,    of    consciousness,    105  f., 

106  («.),  145. 
Marking,  in  recitations,  326. 
Marshall,  H.  R.,  106,  129. 
Meaning,  dependent  on  use,  67 ;  and 


conscious  margin,  105  f.;  theory 
of,  66  ff. 

Meanings,  agreement  of  in  language, 
266. 

Memoriter  methods,  149,  177  ff. 

Memory,  169  ff.;  experiments  on, 
I74f. 

Method,  direct  vs.  indirect,  256  ff.; 
Herbart's  step  of,  286 ;  independ- 
ent of  aim  of  education,  42  f. 

Migration,  as  factor  in  evolution,  16. 

Models,  in  literary  composition, 
245  f.;  as  media  of  instruction, 
278  ff". 

Monograph,  definition  of,  167. 

Monroe,  J.  P.,  258. 

Moral  education,  in  transition  period, 
189  f.;    in  formative  period,  194, 

347  f. ;  in  adolescent  period,  1 99  f.» 

348  f. 

Moral  habits,  i2off'.,  346  ff. 

Morality,  Aristotle's  conception  of, 
55;  as  end  of  education,  55  ff.; 
evolutionary  conception  of,  57  f.; 
Herbart's  conception  of,  57;  so- 
cial nature  of,  58  f. 

Mosso,  A.,  341. 

Museums,  as  educative  agencies, 
251  f.;  school,  252  f. 

Nature  study,  289  f.,  292,  297,  301. 
Needs,  as  determining  apperception, 

82,  83  ff. 
Neo-Darwinism,  10  ff. 
Neo-Lamarckism,  10  ff. 
Netolitzky,  A.,  338,  339,  340,  341, 

342,  343- 
Newsholme,  A.,  338. 

Objective  teaching,  247  ff. 
Observation,  draining  of,  53  f.,  2IO, 

215  f. 
Oral  instruction,  267  ff. 
Oral  transmission,  in  early  culture^ 

28. 


356 


INDEX 


Organization  of  educative  forces, 
2  ff.,  185  ff. 

Organization  of  experience,  161  ff.; 
as  affecting  recall,  173;  in  educa- 
tion, 173  f.,  202,  332,  333. 

O'Shea,  M.  v.,  42,  65,  106,  135, 
209,  215,  271. 

Outlines,  topical,  321,  332  f. 

Parker,  F.  W.,  181. 

Pathology,  evidence  from,  75. 

Pearl,  R.,  7. 

Pentschew,  C  175. 

Personal  equation,  92, 

Pestalozzi,  J.  F.,  35. 

Philosophy,  definition  of,    163  ;    in 

education,    182  f.;    and   practice, 

163  f. 
Pictures,   as  media   of   instruction, 

278  ff. 
Plasticity,  of  infancy,  30  ff. 
Play,  psychology  of,  loi  f. 
Pleasure,  remote  vs.  immediate,  93, 

107. 
Powell,  J.  W.,  15. 
Practical    judgment,     131  ff.,     188, 

241  ff. 
Practice  and  theory,  162  ff. 
Preparation,    formal    step    of,   287, 

288  ff. 
Presentation,   formal    step   of,    287, 

293  ff. 
Primacy,  as  factor  in  recall,  170. 
Primary  schools,  iiof.,  185,  187  ff. 
Principle,  definition  of,  166. 
Principles,  in  deductive  lesson,  308, 

313- 
Puzzle  instinct,  198,  307. 
Pyramidal  tracts,  77. 

Question-and-answer  method,  270  ff., 

289. 
Question  -  and  -  answer    recitation, 

323  ff- 
Questioning,  art  of,  324  ff. 


Questions,  examination,  334. 
Questions,  study,  320  f. 

Reading,  318  f.,  328,  329  f.;  hygiene 
of,  343  f- 

Reasoning,  aggregate  idea  in,  156  ; 
deductive,  157  f.  ;  definition  of, 
152  f.;  in  education,  158  f.,  161, 
189,193;  inductive,  157  f.;  logi- 
cal, 157;   power  of,  214  f. 

Recall,  conditioned  by  develop- 
ment, 201  ff.  ;  factors  of,  169  ff.  ; 
in  development  lesson,  296. 

Recency,  as  factor  of  recall,  169. 

Recitation  lesson,  322  ff. 

Recitation  periods,  length  of,  342  f. 

Reflex  action,  genesis  of,  5  ff. ;  na- 
ture of,  4. 

Rein,  W.,  181,  287,  288,  304. 

Relation,  in  practical  judgment,  132  ; 
in  conceptual  judgment,  140. 

Repetition,  as  factor  of  recall,  169, 
171,  173,  177,  178  f.,  201  f.,  296, 

333- 
Review  lesson,  331  ff. 
Rhetoric,  124. 
Rhythms,  of  fatigue,  342  ;  of  growth, 

186  ff. 
RiBOT,  T.,  73,  104. 
Romanes,  G.  J.,  6. 
Ross,  Margaret,  208. 
Rote  learning,  177  f.,  316  f. 
Rousseau,  J.  J.,  258. 
RowE,  S.  H.,  342. 
Ruediger,  W.  C,  187. 

Savagery,    education    in    stage    of, 

25  ff^. 
School,  definition  of,  32;   divisions 

of,    185  f . ;   evolution   of,    25  ff.  ; 

function  of,  23  ff. 
School  excursions,  249  ff.;  gardens, 

253  ;  museums,  252. 
School  hygiene,  335  ff. 
Science,  definition  of,  l6l ;  as  core 


INDEX 


357 


of  concentration,  l8l  ;  as  inter- 
preting environment,  37. 

Science  teaching,  215  f.,  253  ff.,  314. 

Seat  work,  319  ff. 

Secondary  education,  49, 195  ff.,  224, 
229,  348, 

Selection,  natural,  5  ff.,  98. 

Self,  concept  of,  143  f.  ;  marginal 
nature  of,  106  («.)• 

Self-sacrifice,  and  morality,  60. 

Sense  training,  52  f. 

Sensori-motor  habits,  117  f. 

Sentiment,  definition  of,  235. 

Sentimental  values,  233  ff. 

Sex,  instincts  of,  83  f.,  348  f. 

Shaw  Botanic  Gardens,  252. 

Shaw,  E.  R.,  338,  339,  340,  343, 344. 

Shuyten,  M.  C,  342. 

SlEGERT,  191. 

Sikorsky,  341. 
Smell,  development  of,  52  f. 
Smith,  D.  E.,  149. 
Smith,  Theodate  L.,  245. 
Snellen  test  types,  343  («.). 
Social  efficiency,  as  aim  of  educa- 
tion, 58  ff. 
Social  heredity,  10,  18. 
Socratic  method,  270  ff. 
Source  methods,  275  ff. 
Spelling,     123    f.,    231,    328,    329, 

330. 
Spencer,  H.,  12,  34,  255,  262. 
Squire,  Carrie  R.,  208. 
Stanley,  H.  M.,  146. 
Steffens,  LoriTE,  174. 
Stout,  G.  T.,  74,  89,  97,  106,  117, 

142,  146. 
Strain  sensations,  67  ff.,  145. 
Study  lessons,  316  ff. 
Study  periods,  length  of,  343. 
Sully,  J.,  11 1. 
Swift,  E.  S.,  172. 
Syllogism,  159. 
Symbolism,  145,  193,  199. 
Symonds,  J.  A.,  23S. 


Synthesis,  in   conceptual  judgment, 

140  ;   in  practical  judgment,  132  ; 

of  sensations,  67  ff. 
System,  in  education,  I  ff. ;  Herbart's 

step  of,  286  ;  in  philosophy,  163 ; 

in  science,  161  f. 
Systematist,  definition  of,  167. 

Talleyrand,  267. 

Tarde,  G.,  126. 

Taylor,  hi. 

Teaching  vs.  Telling,  260  f.,  306  f. 

Technical  vs.  classical  education, 
221  f. 

Technical  terms,  value  of,  300. 

Teljatnik,  341,  342. 

Temperament,  90  f. 

Temperature,  of  schoolroom,  339. 

Text-book,  definition  of,  167  ;  func- 
tion of,  263  f.  ;  in  development 
lesson,  295;  in  study  lesson,  316  ff. 

Theory,  and  practice,  162  ff.;  and 
common  sense,  162 ;  and  educa- 
tion, 165. 

Thompson,  Helen  B.,  130,  154. 

Thorndike,  E.  L.,  134,  193,  206, 
209. 

Titchener,  E.  B.,  91,  96,  97,  117, 
118,  135,  146,  153,  157,  224,  23s, 

344- 

Topical  recitation,  321  f.,  326  f.,  332  f. 

Transmission,  of  acquired  character- 
istics, 10  ff.;  social,  10,  18. 

Trial  and  error,  method  of,  242  f. 

Tribe,  as  agency  of  education,  26. 

Truancy,  curve  of,  192,  197. 

Tylor,  E.  B.,  28. 

Unity,  of  consciousness,  67  ff. 

Use,  as  factor  in  apperception,  73 ; 

in    children's    definitions,    79  f.; 

represented  by  strain  sensation^ 

76. 
Use  inheritance,  II. 
Utilitarian  values,  225  ff. 


358 


INDEX 


Values,  educational,  225  fT. 
Variation,  organic,  13,  15;  in  man, 

15  ff. 
Ventilation,  of  schoolroom,  339. 
Verbalism,  266  f.,  316  ff. 
Verification,  in  deductive  lesson,  309, 

313- 
Vividness,  in   education,    171,    177, 
201 ;  as  factor  of  recall,  169, 170  f. 

Wagner,  L.,  341. 
Ward,  L.  F.,  164, 
Watson,  J.  B.,  7,  31. 
Weismann,  a.,  12. 


Wendell,  B.,  184. 

Will,  as  active  attention,  103  L 

Wolff,  Fannie  E.,  79. 

Wood,  Edith  E.,  13. 

WooDWORTH,  R.  S.,  206. 

Words,  and  concepts,  140  f.,  145  ; 

recall  of,  173. 
Work,    in    education,    108  f. ;    and 

fatigue,  341  ff. ;    psychology    of, 

loi  ff. 
Writing,  328,  329;  hygiene  of,  343  i. 
WUNDT,  W.,  78,  io6. 

2:iLLIR,  T.,  iSo,  287. 


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